


Reckless Little Thing

by thedarkestdaisy



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: F/M, Kinky, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-12
Updated: 2015-03-27
Packaged: 2018-03-01 04:11:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2759168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedarkestdaisy/pseuds/thedarkestdaisy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He walks to the foot of the bed and stares down at her, decision made.<br/>“Are you sure I didn’t interrupt something?” he grins down at her.<br/>Her face is turning red with either embarrassment or anger but he relies on the notion that she won’t get up from that bed lest he see something she doesn’t want him to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Caught red-handed and then smacked with said hand

**Author's Note:**

> Just when I start to set sail on a ship I find out the show ended! Anyways, I just wanted to get this out before I go to bed. It hasn't been beta'd. Because I don't have one. Ha. Be on the lookout for Part Two

She and mom, Miles, Monroe, Aaron, and grandpa Gene are sitting around the table downstairs at the inn, where they just booked two rooms at. After their last skirmish with the khaki bastards Monroe and Miles decide to gather as much intelligence as they can inside the city and lay low. So low that they are in a dry neighborhood, which she learns, means there are no bars or alcohol at all.

She would laugh at the irony of two (now becoming three if she includes herself, shit) highly functioning alcoholics stuck at a sweet homey inn in a dry town where the church is bigger than the government building. She can’t laugh however, because of the blooming new bruise on her ribs from when some psychopath Patriot kicked her down. She did not stay down long for her fear quickly gave way to anger as she pushed the young man off and crawled on top of him and proceeded to wail on him with her fists and the heel of her palms. 

Charlie only held up when she realized he wasn’t fighting back anymore. She doesn’t check to make sure if the man is alive before she goes on to take the next person down. She doesn’t want to know.

When she looks at Miles and Monroe across the table she wonders if they ever stay up late at night with their thoughts. Have they ever been so disgusted with their actions it made them physically sick? She thinks they might have been. Some time, long ago, in the beginning. When they could be reckless and it was justifiable.

She recalls an early birthday. Pre-blackout. With cold, delicious ice cream and perfect cake. Uncle Miles and Uncle Bass are on leave for a few weeks and have pooled in their cash to get her a last minute gift. She is five and the only present she deems important enough to remember is a giant sparkly helmet and a big girl bicycle. It is white with pink handle bars and a pink seat. The streamers at the end of the handles would tickle her hands as she flew down the sidewalk. As much as one could fly with training wheels.

It doesn’t take long for her speed and wild treatment of the bike to throw her off. Her father and Uncle Bass come running down the sidewalk to scrape her off the pavement. She isn’t hurt that badly. She’s just scared and a little shocked. Bass gets there first and kneels down next to her. 

“Are you crazy, kid? Charlotte, you have to be more careful,” he sweeps her off the ground and looks at her skinned up knee and bloodied palms. “You are the most reckless little thing I have ever met”

He holds her on his hip and consoles her until her father catches up. Her father scolds her, tells her he loves her and then carries her off back to the house. She watches as Uncle Bass picks up the bike and lugs it back to the house behind them. 

He winks at her.

Charlie is looking at her palms still when a bowl of stew is placed in front of her and she comes back to the present. Everyone is muttering thanks to a man carrying a pot and ladle and she quietly says one too as an afterthought.

She doesn’t feel particularly hungry at the moment. Instead she watches Monroe whisper and nod with Miles and her mother. It is a new pastime she enjoys. After walking nearly across the country with Miles she feels like she can read him well enough to anticipate most of his moves before they even become thoughts. However, when she was traveling with Monroe after New Vegas she didn’t really get the chance to study him as much as she wanted. Instead Charlie thought it was best to keep a trained eye on any weapons he carried and whether or not they were aimed at her. But now, when they are at somewhat of a stopping point, she sits back in her chair and observes him.

Even though he is right handed he uses his left hand to eat. That way he doesn’t draw attention to the mutilated skin that once carried a dear emblem. He only has three shirts and he is wearing the gray long-sleeved one. Charlie submits to the fact that he looks far more handsome in this shirt than the others. When he takes a pull of the thick cider from his cup she focuses on his neck as he tilts his head back. His face is a little red. This probably has something to do with his newly trimmed moustache and beard. The tiniest scar under his right eye twitches as he tries to hold in his mirth over something Miles has said. She wonder what would happen if she called him Uncle Bass again. She wonders what it would be like to lick his throat instead of jamming her short knife into it and twisting.

Her skin begins to crawl with goosebumps and she drops her head down to focus on the now cold soup in front of her. She digs into the shredded pork and beans, once they start walking again she’ll have to rely on what can be caught and sometimes the animals have a sneaky way of evading her.

When Charlie looks up again she spots Aaron staring at her curiously next to her mother. 

“What?” she mouths to him.

“You were staring,” he says aloud.

Her eyes flick toward the others before she feels a sense of relief when Monroe doesn’t lift his head up to acknowledge he heard Aaron.

She feels a little guilty at getting caught.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says around a mouth full of beans.

“I know you were looking in that general direction,” he gestures towards Monroe, “and that you weren’t listening to a single thing anyone has said.”

Charlie gives him a look of disbelief.

“They’re talking about the Patriots and Texas and stuff.” 

His eyes flick towards Monroe and he raises his eyebrows and smiles.

“Ha! Way off! They were arguing about the Backstreet Boys.”

“Who?”

“Exactly.”

Charlie rolls her eyes and tosses back the apple cider in front of her before pushing away from the table and standing up.

“Where are you going?” Monroe asks. Everyone at the table turns towards her mid-conversation.

“I’m going to turn in early. Wake me up for first watch.”

“I put mine and your mother’s things in the room that’s marked with the letter C. Your things are on one of the beds,” he grandfather adds before she walks away.

She nods but doesn’t see the inquisitive glance Monroe flashes Aaron and her previous spot.

Charlie finds the room and her belongings fairly easy. She cleans herself up with the aloe and milk soap she traded when they came into town and then slips into one of the beds.

 

It is dark when Monroe knocks on the door and sneaks in an hour and a half later. The candle in the corner of the room sheds enough light to let him know Charlie was not asleep at all and looks caught off guard. Her head is poking out the top of the blanket and her face looks flushed. Her eyes have that feel-good dazed look to them and her breaths are deep and uneven.

He takes in the whole picture and estimates what the odds are before saying them aloud.

“What are you doing?” Monroe asks slowly shutting the door behind him.

“Nothing,” the word practically jumps out of her mouth.

This is definitely a pleasant surprise. His first intention was to wake her up and tell her they were all at the table playing poker for Aaron and Miles’ secret flasks. His first intention is long forgotten by now.

“What kind of nothing?” he is leaning against the door. 

“The kind of nothing where you do nothing, genius.” Her words are snappy and he is five hundred percent sure he is right about his previous guess.

The oh-so-obvious stare Charlie was giving him downstairs and the conversation she and Aaron had that he totally picked up on come to mind when he begins to contemplate his next move. 

He walks to the foot of the bed and stares down at her, decision made.

“Are you sure I didn’t interrupt something?” he grins down at her.

Her face is turning red with either embarrassment or anger but he relies on the notion that she won’t get up from that bed lest he see something she doesn’t want him to.

“Like I said before; nothing. I was just sleeping.”

“Sleeping with your hands down your pants and trying to get off?” She opens her mouth to immediately deny it or scream at him but he holds his hand up in the universal symbol for stop. “What would I see if I pulled the blanket off you?”

“Wait.”

His hand is on the edge of the blanket when she stops him. 

“Are you naked under there?”

She rolls her eyes at him, “You don’t have to be naked to…”

“The door wasn’t even locked. That’s kind of reckless of you.”

“I couldn’t get off,” she admits slowly.

“So what? You like the thrill of getting caught? You need help?” 

“Yes.” 

His groin has gone way past tight and uncomfortable to pounding and painful.

As Charlie watches him she wonders what is going through his head. Will he back out because she’s Miles’ niece? Because she’s too young? Because they have to see each other after whatever is about to happen ends? 

He frowns and his lips tighten into a straight line as he takes a step towards the side of the bed. She can feel her heartbeat quicken as he slides the blanket down her body. The tension eases off his face when he sees she has her clothes on.

“You have your hand in your pants still.”

Charlie whips her hand out and begins to take her shirt off when he laughs and puts a hand on her shoulder with enough pressure to still her movements.

“We don’t have to take our clothes off to have a good time.” 

Fuck, she can’t breathe. This is really happening. Is this what Aaron’s anxiety attacks feel like? 

His eyes roam her body as if deciding what to do. He crawls up onto the bed and looms over her on all fours. He smiles as he gazes down at her lovely dark blue eyes.

“One, you can not touch yourself. Two, you can not touch me unless I say so. Three, you are only allowed to say my name. Understand, Charlotte?”

Charlie is too worried that if she speaks everything will break around her so she settles on nodding. He leans down and kisses her neck up to her chin before sliding his hand into her panties. She holds her breath, worried she might scream.

He leans back to look down at her. Charlie is everything wonderful underneath him. Eyes dark. Breasts heaving up and down under her shirt in an uneven rhythm. He can make out the points of her nipples and takes one into his mouth as he slides his hand in her panties and his thumb trails down the center of curls that lead to his refuge and pinches her clit. She thrusts her chest up and groans deep in her throat, unable to keep quiet. Any pain she feels in her ribs is totally worth it. Her hands dig into the cot below them.

“Oh My Go-”

“Say it,” he growls.

“Bass. Oh Fuck, Bass.”

His middle finger slides into her slowly and she pistons her hips into his hand. Bass slides in another finger and slowly fucks her and rubs her until his name becomes completely incoherent on her lips. Charlie begins to reach her hands up to pull his head down to her lips.

“Don’t.” 

She hisses in frustration and throws her head back down on the pillow. He curls his fingers in her warmth and hits a spot she wasn’t able to reach before. Her hum is high-pitched and needy as her walls start to tighten and squeeze around his fingers.

“Do you want to touch me?”

Her eyes fly open before she starts reaching down to undo his belt and pants. Bass is sliding out of his pants and boxers as she kicks off her own. She holds his head between her hands as he sinks into her. Charlie’s eyes go to the back of her head as he groans above her. She loves feeling the taught muscles of his stomach moving against her own as he pushes further into her.

“Holy fuck,” she sighs.

Bass promptly looks down and scoffs at the look of completeness on her face. He wishes it could be like this forever too. She picks up on the rapid pace he sets for them. He almost hisses when her fingers dive under his shirt to scratch down his chest and catch on his nipples. He can tell she is squeezing herself around him on purpose and presses a kiss to her forehead. 

Bass starts hitting that certain sweet spot that makes her scream. When he puts a hand over her mouth and gives her a look that says “shut up” she gets louder and Bass slowly realizes that she likes it a little rough.

“What do you want?” he grinds out encouragingly.

“Slap,” she mewls.

Before he can ask what she means Bass’ head whips to the right after she smacks him with nearly as much force as she can gather.

“Fuck,” that sped things up. That also turned him on, surprisingly. He can feel his balls tighten, ready to shoot.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, yes. Bass,” She contracts around him and rides out her orgasm screaming.

Bass pulls out the very last second and leans down to kiss her ear and whisper into it. She can feel the warmth of his seed hit her thigh and she reaches down to touch it. He falls next to her in bed and watches her as he catches his breath and holds on to this elated feeling for as long as possible.

She sits up on the side of the bed and goes to the water basin in the corner of the room next to the candle. Bass watches her wipe down her thigh before she looks up and smiles at him. It makes his breath catch in his chest for a moment.

“What the hell, Charlotte? You slapped me. I didn’t realize you liked it that rough and kinky.”

“Would you believe me if I said I was holding back?” It sounds like an innocent question but Bass suddenly thinks she’s not very innocent at all. She starts to put her underwear and jeans back on and she tosses his to him from the floor. He his standing up and buckling his belt when she stops in front of him and pulls his lips down to hers. He picks her up and wraps her legs around him. She kisses her way along his beard down his jaw. Charlie kisses him like her body is rampant with a hot fever and he the only cold cure left in the world. They forget about the poker game most likely wrapping up downstairs, because seriously, nothing in the past few years has ever been this wonderful and exciting.

“Next time, I’m going to smack you in the face while you come around my cock. See how you like it then.” He grins down at her before opening the door.

“I can’t wait,” she nearly sings.

“Shit,” he blanches. “I was joking.”

“What can I say? I’m a reckless little thing.”

They hear they’re people coming up the stairs and he pops a kiss on her forehead before winking at her and high-tailing it to the other room.


	2. Not-so highly functioning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He has been pondering her for the past few days but never able to actually approach her and ask her what that wonderful thing the other night was. That wasn’t just a one time “Wham bam thank you, mam” was it?

Bass and Miles are insanely happy to leave the dry town just five days after they arrive. Gene and Rachel were able to get enough information on an ongoing battle between a bunch of rebels and a war-clan. A war-clan protecting a town on the border of California. Miles felt intrigued enough to let everyone know they would be leaving come the next morning. Bass was happy to be on the road again for a number of reasons. 

He feels claustrophobic staying in towns and cities. Not entirely like a sitting duck, but not entirely safe enough to let his guard down to be comfortable. Sure, you have more supplies available and ready to be purchased or traded with, but there were so many people. People who know things, because that is the only way to stay alive anymore. What you know, and how to use what you know is the only thing keeping people from dying today. And a lot of people know about Monroe.

So he isn’t exactly too sad to be leaving the comfort of a cot and a decent meal. There are other things better about traveling than staying in small towns. For instance, distance. Nobody has to stay huddled together anymore. If you want to ride ahead, you can. If you want to go take a pee, you can take a walk far away enough so that nobody can hear what you’re doing besides peeing. Bass very much looks forward to traveling again and is nearly giddy when everyone is packed to go within thirty minutes. The sun has yet to reach the top of the sky and the morning chill still seeps into the opening in their clothes. When they set out on the road out of town Bass watches the carbon dioxide leaving Charlie’s lips and dissipating into the air as she breathes.

Not one mile out of town and he is already thinking of ways to get her alone (and underneath him again) and away from her family. He has been pondering her for the past few days but never able to actually approach her and ask her what that wonderful thing the other night was. That wasn’t just a one time “wham bam thank you mam”, was it? 

Because if it was then he seriously wants to tackle her to the ground and prove to her how much of a fling it wasn’t. And if it wasn’t a fling he still seriously wants to tackle her to the ground and prove something to her!

“Bass, you’ve got a weird fucking look on your face, man. You feeling alright?” Miles’ voice beside him knocks him down a horny peg or two.

Charlie and Gene stop to look at him for a moment before looking at each other and continuing on in front of the two men. Bass forces himself not to stare at her ass while he is walking next to Miles.

“I’m fine,” he says loudly. “I think I’ve just gotten smacked in the head too many times.”

Charlie trips over her own boots a few feet ahead of them. And he knows it’s not just the beaten up road over grown with weeds they are walking to California on. She shoots a quick look back to the two men and Bass raises his eyebrows at her in a look of mock innocence.

She turns around with a whip of her hair. 

It is perfect outside. After living in the east coast for so long he’s starting to like the West. 

Except for Texas. Texas can fuck itself.

The sun is warming the breeze and he thinks he could actually start waxing poetic on the way it casts a light on Charlie’s hair. The longer they walk, the higher the sun gets and the hotter the day becomes. He tries not to stare, or at least get caught staring, at her while she strips off her jacket and ties the sleeves in a knot around her waist. Does she realize there are some bruises on her hips poking out from her jeans? Bass feels a little proud of his marks on her.

She is looking down at her feet deep in thought. Every once in a while she’ll look up and examine the tree line. Something Gene says makes her snort with laughter which in turn causes him to smile. 

They walk for hours on end. The quietness of traveling is something Bass hates. He would give anything for a radio, thankfully he and Miles have made a game of trying to remember lyrics to songs last night. It’s hard as most of the lyrics and melodies have left him by now. Sometimes they say the words and the other one has to guess the rest of the song or who the singer is. Their little competition has made its way to the front of the group after everyone hears Miles laugh at Bass doing his best Michael Jackson impression.

“I can’t believe you actually just grabbed your crotch and spun around,” Aaron looks a little disturbed as his mind starts to process what just took place in front of him.

Miles begins the game once again.

“I’m hot like an oven and I-”

“Need some lovin’! Marvin Gaye!” Bass blurts out before Miles can finish the lyric. “I had the record,” he confesses. “Okay. My turn! And how you got me blind is still a mystery. I can't get you out of my head. Don't care what is written in your history. As long as you are here with me,” Bass makes sure to look at Rachel and to completely avoid eye contact with Charlie.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Rachel inquires.

“You don’t know who it is?”

“No.” She shakes her head with a confused look. “Should I?”

“It’s that Backstreet Boys,” Miles says hesitantly.

“I just figured all women knew who they were. Whether they liked them or not.”

“What is it with you guys and the Backstreet Boys?” asks Aaron.

“Okay, I got one,” Gene says. “My love is alive down in my heart, although we are miles apart.” he looks away into the distance of the road, perhaps feeling a little nostalgic.

“Ain’t No Mountain?”

The small group stops unexpectedly and looks towards Charlie who has been quiet since the beginning of the game. 

“How do you know that song?” Rachel asks, clearly impressed. Well, everyone is a little impressed. She was five and a half years old when the power went out. Everyone just assumes the only song she would know is the Barney theme song. 

“Maggie.” Charlie says under her breath. Maggie is an uncomfortable subject now and Charlie instantly regrets saying it aloud.

Rachel stiffens and gets that cold and angered look on her face. But then something new happens. It slowly vanishes and she encourages Charlie to tell her more. This is a pivotal moment in their mother/daughter relationship. Charlie realizes the attempt Rachel is making to salvage what they had before she left. She doesn’t get a lot of these ooey gooey family moments, so she decides to take what she can get. 

“Well, when we did the laundry she would teach me some of her favorite songs. I would learn them and we would sing them together. It helped that Dad could play a few of them on the guitar. ”

“Like what?” Miles asks. 

She looks unsure of whether or not to expound upon the subject. It kind of makes her miss what she took for granted. It is in these moments Charlie wishes she could go back and thank Maggie. Or at least have been less of a bitch to her when she hit her pre-teen years.

“Ummm…I Will Survive.” She says reluctantly.

“By Aretha Franklin!” Aaron shouts excitedly, still thinking about the game and not the uncomfortable situation involving Charlie’s deceased step-mother.

“Nope! Gloria Gaynor,” Bass corrects him with an I-know-all smile. The music and lyrics are all coming back to him. Flooding his brain with sounds, words, and rhythms.

“I don’t really know who it’s by,” Charlie admits. “I know Folsom Prison Blues. Somewhere Over the Rainbow. Oh! And Satisfaction by the Rolling Stones. She really liked the Rolling Stones.” 

“I can’t get no! Satis-fuck,” Bass stops short with frustration painting his face. “That song is gonna be stuck in my head all day now. Thanks for that Charlotte.” He winks at her.

They walk all day along the worn down road. The group passes a bunch of cars pushed off the side and Miles looks a little miffed when he spots a 1965 Chevrolet. They stop mid-day only to look at the crude map someone in town drew up for Miles or to take a thirty minute break to eat some fruit and smoked meat they picked up on the way out. It’s quiet and nobody really talks. Bass’s eyes follow Charlie as she whispers something to her mother and then disappears into the tree line. He’ll give her a few minutes.

Bass interrupts the silence by announcing to everyone that he’s going to piss like a horse with a UTI.

Rachel looks disgusted but Miles is sitting next to her and laughing so hard he’s bent over. Gene looks likes he’s about to say something but then shuts his mouth and shakes his head. Aaron doesn’t lift his eyes from his book to acknowledge him. 

He laughs as he walks away from them. Sometimes he just says shit like that to see everyone’s reactions. It’s always worth it. He could never do that when he was Monroe. Bass steps a few feet into the shade of the trees and stands still, listening for sounds. Wind blows through the tops of the trees and he can hear bugs buzzing and birds cawing and chirping all over the place. It is quiet enough that his own breathing sounds loud.

He hears Charlie before he sees her. His eyes scan the general direction and he grins when he spots her. She looks lovely, her jacket is around her waist showing off sun-kissed arms and her hair is blowing around her face in the wind. The sight of it all catches him unawares. 

“Hey,” he says softly and walks slowly to her as though not to spook her. “Can we talk about the other night?”

Bright blue eyes dart in the direction of the others; he thinks she might make a run from him for a moment. 

“Okay.” She doesn’t exactly look eager to have the conversation. She worries the bottom of her lip with her teeth and she can’t seem to keep eye contact with him. It only makes him want to grab her face and pull her closer for a kiss. Or kisses. 

She makes him feel like a teenager. An important conversation is about to be taking place and she is making him feel like a horny, frustrated teenager. 

 

To be honest she was expecting a talk like this soon. Just as she opens her mouth Miles comes traipsing through the foliage of abandoned trees and tall weeds to stop in front of them with a curious look.

Bass can tell this conversation has been shut down and put on the back burner for the time being. He thinks quickly on his feet and pulls out a full flask before passing it to Charlie.

“We’re highly functioning alcoholics,” he says with a smile. He is laying the charm on thick, hoping to get out of this one without any questions as to why they are alone.

Miles takes out his own flasks and toasts Charlie before unscrewing the lid and taking a pull.

“Just don’t tell your mother,” he whispers conspiratorially.

Charlie feels a weight being lifted off her chest. Miles actually bought that schpeal? Bass gives her a look that under no uncertain terms tells her they will be talking later. She nods and takes a long pull from his flask before handing it back to him and wondering where they hell got moonshine that tastes like however fire feels in a dry town.

She should know better. Bass always has his ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again this is un-Beta'd. Just thoroughly proof read by myself. This is also pretty much just a filler leading up to the next big scene.


	3. In which everything is shot to shit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miles comes to a few realizations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I'm giving up on this, It looks like I'm giving up on this. I think I am just rushing to get to the next chapter. This is becoming a problem. Once again, not beta'd.

When they start to walk on the road again Miles walks silently beside Bass. It’s a little disappointing because he at least thought he could get some alone time with Charlie. Apparently this pisses Rachel off too because she’s up ahead stomping off with Aaron, silently fuming. Every now and then he’ll look back and forth between the two but Miles’ face tells him nothing.

He listens to the conversations Charlie has with her Grandfather. Gene tells her about her Grandma Annette, or Annie, as he likes to refer to her. He tells her that she has the Matheson’s blue eyes but everything else looks just like Annie. Charlie listens intently about how Gene and Annie met through his roommate’s girlfriend, Shirley, while he was studying Pre-med. That he didn’t pay her any attention because she was six years younger than him and he thought she was just a brat who followed him and his pals around.

“But then she got a boyfriend,” Gene says with malice, clearly reliving the moment in his head. “At that point I have never hated anyone as much as I hated him. His name was Rich and he was in all my Pre-med classes. I could tell she just wasn’t happy with him as she was with me and my friends. Her bright and happy nature was dimmed and it just drove me crazy because I knew he was snuffing out the light.”

Charlie is enthralled by now. 

“So what did you do?”

“Nothing. I did nothing for about two years. Just focused on my studies and kept an eye on her. She honestly thought she loved him, you see. There was nothing I could do. Until one night when I passed this crazy exam and my buddies and I went to a drive-in to celebrate. She was there with that guy at the concession stand and she looked so morose. Until she noticed me. She popped up and came over to congratulate me. We got to talking and she was just beaming, the entire time. ”

“Then what happened?” Bass is seriously enjoying story time.

“I made a move. I felt like if I didn’t say something that night than she could very well leave me forever and end up with that no-good boyfriend of hers.”

“And?”

“We got married fifteen months later. The rest is history.”

Everyone walks silently for a long time. Aaron and Charlie start up a game of I Spy until pinks and oranges and blues streak lines across the sky. They all agree to stop and set up camp on the side of the road, far enough to have cover from anything that might be passing through. Charlie puts on a long sleeved shirt and her jacket back on before helping Gene and Aaron arrange sticks and broken limbs into a small fire. She sits down and examines her bow and arrows. Bass goes to sit next to her when he is suddenly pulled away by Miles to go over the route they’ll be taking tomorrow. If they make good time they might come across a town a few hours after they start.

Charlie stands and lets everyone know she’s going to see if there’s anything out there to eat. Bass offers to scout the area and Miles agrees and goes with him.

Which kind of sucks. He was hoping to run into Charlie while going over the area. Spontaneously, of course.

He watches Charlie walk away deeper into the trees. He knows she’ll be safe. He fought her once himself before, she’s skilled enough to be on of those things that go bump in the night, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t worry. He and Miles follow her into the overgrowth shortly after.

Bass becomes aware of how uncharacteristically quiet Miles is being. Usually there are snide comments or snark. Right now Miles is silent, in his own world. They walk in zig zags, crossing each other several times while sweeping the area. Miles keeps his eye-line above the waist and Bass makes sure there’s nothing or no one waiting for them on the ground. It is a familiar pattern. They go as far as they can and start to head back side by side.

“You need to pull, back Bass.”

They’ve been waking around for over thirty minutes without any words so Bass is unsure he actually hears them at first.

“Huh?”

“Charlie. C’mon, you’re not fooling me. I don’t know what you guys are up to but you need to pull back before anything happens.”

Thankfully Miles doesn’t take Bass’ silence as an admission of guilt. He doesn’t know what’s already happened between them.

“You’re going to hurt her Bass. Even if you don’t mean to, that’s just what you do. Everything you touch just sort of falls apart.”

“Don’t you think Charlie should be able to decide this for herself?” Bass can feel his anger slowly rising to the surface.

Miles’ face takes on a pained expression. Bass can tell he’s about to change his tactic and say something that might actually piss him off.

“She my niece, shithead. And I’m asking you as my Brother to stay away from her. You’re like twenty years older than her, do you really think this relationship is going to last? The only thing you guys have in common is the people you associate yourselves with. You don’t commit long-term Bass. You just kind of mess around with them for as long they keep you interested. Charlie deserves more than just a roll in the hay. She deserves a commitment.”

Bass can tell Miles is on a roll.

“What if it’s more that just a fling?”

“God, Bass. Just stop. I know things have gone to shit faster than Ferris Bueller’s Day Off between us, but this is different. I can’t have you messing her up. After all this is over she’s gonna settle down somewhere and probably meet a guy and pop out a bunch of little assholes and you aren’t part of that plan, okay?”

Bass begins to say something but Miles holds him back and steps right into his face. Bass can see anger and frustration in the lines of his face. He can hear the desperation in his voice

“She used to call you her Uncle. Does that not seem perverse to you? If she comes on to you… you need to shut her down. I don’t care if she gets angry about it. You have to stop this before it starts. I can’t stress how serious I am. You end it or I will. And you don’t want to know what I’ll do but if the decision comes down to me picking between the two of you; I’ll pick her, I will always pick her.”

Miles walks ahead back to the camp leaving him with is thoughts.

It becomes dark and the only thing Bass can see is the fire burning from far away. He walks slowly, trying to make a decision, trying to work around Miles’ words. 

Bass feels angry and furious. He wants to go up to Miles and tell him everything but knows the fallout from that would be something no one would ever recover from. He wants to scream so loud that he knows it would momentarily deafen the bugs and whatever nocturnal shits are crawling and flying overhead. He feels like a child having his most precious model train taken away from him again. He feels like stomping hard enough on the groundfloor to give the earth the same amount of anguish he is feeling. 

As he approaches the fire he can feel a contrary coldness sinking into his bones and weighing him down. He palms his cheeks making sure that no trace of the past hour is left on his face.

When he steps into the clearing everyone looks up at him.  
Gene and Rachel look back down and attend to the fire and Charlie’s catch.  
Charlie has his pack resting on the ground beside her own, clearly saving him a spot with out being too noticeable. It makes his chest hurt so much he thinks he might throw up.  
Miles looks at him expectantly. The hard expression directed at Bass clearly saying “Make a choice, before I make it for you.”

Bass walks, decision made. When he sits down and looks up at Charlie from across the fire he can see confusion painting her face. Then the hurt slowly makes its way to her eyes and he can’t help but look down.

He feels a former mask of a man rising to the surface. A man who is uncaring, devoid of emotions. A man who operates on logic and pain.

Bass doesn’t let himself go near her the rest of the way. When Charlie says something funny or makes a small complaint he tells her to stop acting like a child. When she seeks him out, he tells her to go away and he doesn’t give her any reason when she demands to know why before storming off, angry with his silence.

She sneaks off after him when he goes on patrol after another day of traveling. He looks down at her with annoyance and he must say it’s getting easier to fake it. Bass imagines Miles sending Charlie away, like he did with Connor. He imagines never being able to just see her again or even find her. If he is honest with himself he learns that he is slowly starting to hate Miles or at the very least, the control he has over him.

He can see her shutting down and pulling away from people. He understands that this is how she protects herself.

He can tell he is hurting her.

They are a day away from reaching the supposed town protected by a war clan. They learn that Miles intends to take over this clan and many many others alongside Monroe and Connor who has already headed Midwest.

All of the talks Bass and Miles have had on the way are coming out. They need to get the Republic back. There is an uproar from Rachel and Aaron but Gene tends to lean towards the two men. A civil union between states could be all this nation need to get itself back on its feet.

Over the fire Miles tells everyone about what the Republic was like before everything got shot to shit. They were on the verge of creating a democracy. Because really, who would Monroe pass the baton to? There were markets and open trading posts. People were getting a better health care. They were protected by Monroe’s army. 

Now Miles and Bass know what went wrong. They aren’t mad with power, they explain. They just want to clean up the mess they’ve left behind.

Before Charlie goes to bed she thinks of the talk everyone had. Connor and Colonel Baker are in the heading west and gathering men and supplies along the way. Miles said the two men would be in what was once Missouri, somewhere along the river. That this war clan they-re coming upon may be over one hundred men strong. That Bass couldn’t even look at her when she asked questions. Like, how long would it take to get to Missouri once they had all the men? Where were the places Baker and Connor would be stopping?

Charlie thinks of how long it took to get Miles and what she endured to keep him. She thinks of how he doesn’t walk with her anymore. Just watches her from the sidelines with her mother. She thinks of all the times Bass has saved her. How he made her feel in the bed at the inn and how he’s making her want to die out here in the wilderness. She thinks of Duncan’s men and how easy it was to lose all of them in the scuffle before they made it to the inn. She thinks about her lack of leadership skills and how this idea is looking pretty grim.

On the last watch, her watch, she rips pages from Aaron’s book and copies the maps that Miles has in his pack, which in turn wakes Aaron up.

When Bass wakes up to find two empty spaces and two notes addressed to them on the pages of Aaron’s book he thinks he is still dreaming. One in Charlie’s sloppy scribbles and another in Aaron’s hurried scrawl. 

Charlie tells them she’s going west. Don’t follow her. She’s made it fine on her own once and she can do it again. She’ll be with Connor and the Colonel and she’ll also meet them with an army of her own. She tells her mother not to worry and her grandfather to keep her mother from worrying. She tells Miles that she will see him again. She tells Aaron to keep Monroe and Miles from fighting with each other. She tells them she isn’t sorry and she loves them. She tells Monroe that she was stupid. That he let her down again and he can go fuck himself with a tree.

Aaron tells them that he is following Charlie because he thinks she’s about to run away again and that he’s sorry but he doesn’t think he can stop her so he’ll do his best to protect her.

Miles wakes up to a near death experience by Bass’ own hands. He is furious and crying and saying he should’ve picked her. When Rachel reads the note she runs off screaming for Charlie until Miles can break away from Bass long enough to go after her. Gene has enough sense to calm everyone down an hour later.

Miles is worried and furious and can’t believe Charlie would do something so stupid. She is one of the most level-headed teeny boppers he’s ever met. What is Aaron going to be able to do to protect her? What if he never sees her blue eyes or bright smile or sarcastic brow again? Charlie doesn’t run off blindly by herself unless she has been… seriously provoked.

It is in this instant Miles takes stock of the people around him. He zeros in on Bass.  
His Brother looks like he’s about to have a panic attack. He can tell Bass wants to go after her but he also knows Bass wants this to end, all of it. The man is walking around with watery eyes one minute and kicking at last night’s fire and screaming at him the next.

“It wasn’t you who I should have picked. It was her! I should’ve picked her the second those words left your mouth, you son of a bitch!”

By now Rachel has turned off and retreated into herself much like she did after Danny’s death. She wants to get to town quickly and get some form of correspondence to Baker telling him her child is somewhere out there and heading for him and if he doesn’t have her the next time she sees him she will set his world on fire.

As they walk to the town their pace has quickened. For the sole purpose that Rachel was not kidding and Bass wants to get as far away from Miles as he can get. Everyone’s mind is painted with chaos and pictures of Charlie and Aaron.

In the end, they do get the men they need. Rachel wants to get the hell out of dodge and make her way to Baker and Connor before the message she sent gets to them. Miles knows she’s hoping to find Charlie herself.

Bass isn’t eating or talking or sleeping. He isn’t doing much of anything. When they get to town it's a place renamed Happydale after the outage. Happydale isn’t happy. There’s a bunch of Patriots all over town, destroying what was once a thriving place with black-mail, murder and debauchery. The man in charge is a special kind of asshole because he likes the young ladies and men for bed partners until he needs to fulfill his sick desires of mutilation and strings up pieces of people in the town square. The war-clan is no match for the Patriots. Where the khaki bastards have guns they have metal. Where they have a good two hundred and fifty men army controlling the town, the war-clan has a ferocious one hundred and ninety-some men and women.

Bass takes pleasure in taking control of a war-clan army. The bloodshed is as familiar to him as sparkly blue eyes. It takes two days for the battle to end. Bass gains another moniker: the Hellion of Happydale.

They set out for Missouri four days after arriving in town with one hundred and thirty men and women promised to them as payment for ridding the town of it’s plaque of crooked Patriots. As Miles and Bass are riding ahead on the horses Miles can’t help but keep an eye on him. He is slowly slipping into General Monroe again.

He hears Bass muttering to himself over and over again, “When I find her…”

Miles can’t help but think he just broke something far beyond repair.

 

It takes four months to get to Kansas. Miles knows in the next week they should be bumping into Connor and the Colonel.  
And hopefully Charlie too.


	4. About to go Rambo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie gets the ball rolling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As per usual it is un-beta'd.

They are two days of walking distance away when Aaron stops asking Charlie why the hell she decided to high-tail it from her family. When she finally starts to talk to him she gives him vague white lies, not really shedding any light on what’s going on under her pretty blonde head. In the beginning of their impromptu road trip he would never stop asking her what was wrong and why she left. Was it her mom? Was it Miles?- because he could see how much of a doting lap dog Miles was starting to become in the presence of Rachel. Was it him? If it was Monroe, they should just turn back now, Monroe will always be an asshole. She didn’t answer any of his questions. But she did decide to tell him where they were going. If he was going to follow her then he might as well be made aware. 

She walks a few feet ahead of him and he can tell she’s trying to keep her crying to herself. When she starts to choke on her sobs she’ll run further ahead and he knows that this is her demanding space. The first few days felt endless to Charlie and the scenery never changed. The trees looked like copies of each other and one lake they came across looked the same in one place as it did in another. The days blended into to nights so much that she couldn’t remember what day of the week it was. She would walk and walk until her feet felt numb or until Aaron needed to rest. Bass consumed her, and he wasn’t even around to watch the kind of havoc he wreaked upon her. How was it that you could be miles and days away from someone and they could still bring you physical pain?

Aaron thought traveling with the group was hard, this was harder. She was going through mood swings faster than a bi-polar toddler. Some weeks on their journey Charlie would laugh and joke with him. They would play games like I Spy and the Alphabet Game he taught her when she was younger. Other days she was quiet and reserved. He got the feeling she was sorting through some of the problems she left behind with the others. As they passed through the once-then states he told her all he knew about them when the electricity was on. She wants to know what the states profited from. What did they harvest? Was there oil? Were there mines located in the state? What was the healthcare like? How was the government run? As the questions got more and more specific he could tell there were gears turning in her head but he didn’t know what she was building up to. 

She told him all about what she did while she was in New Vegas with Monroe and on the road to finding him, Miles, and her mother. He doesn’t like talking about what would have been a happy life with Cynthia. She shoots him a look and asks him if the nano had anything to do with it. He gives her a grim nod and she decides that’s all she needs to know about the subject. Aaron has stopped pressing her for answers so she’ll give him the same consideration.

He checks his pocket watch occasionally to see if they’re making good time. In the first month she would be quiet for nearly sixteen hours a day, which included waking him up, walking to the next city and seeing what she could loot, or trade, or when stopping for a quick break. It was like she was on mute and the only way he could tell what was going on was through her facial expressions and mannerisms. She wasn’t mad at him, he decided. She was just kind of desolate and going through the motions of her life.

At night, they go to the woods and she leaves him there as she runs around hunting for something to roast, or in her case, burn over the fire. It’s terrifying but he knows Charlie will always come back for him. And he will do everything he can to protect her, just like he promised. But where Charlie is battle-ready and honed in as many techniques as she can with swordplay and shooting things he is more of a methodical thinker. He tells her the quickest ways to get to where they need to go. In his mind he plans what they are going to be talking about the next day. If he doesn’t do these things he knows she’ll go back to the Charlie he started this trip with. 

When she does come back it’s with back packs full of rations, fire arms and ammunition, and even some diamonds to trade with in the next town. Most of the time when she came back bearing these gifts she’s breathing a bit heavier and there might be some bruises forming on her face. Once, even a bloody nose and what he thought might have been a broken hand. Sometimes, the worst times, she would come back wearing other’s blood and brooding. 

It was those stoic and silent moments from her that made him wonder what the hell they were running from. Because it was obvious now, she been trying to get away from something back on their way to California. People don’t pull a Die Hard just for the fun of it. She dealing with something and she’s decided to deal with it through anger and swords.

 

Two months go by and then three months and he enjoys the scenery as they go further west. He doesn’t like how cold it gets in the mornings. The steam that rises from the warm earth casts a gloomy look around them. Charlie once said she would think it was beautiful if it didn’t help hide things from her. Which now makes him wearier of the morning fog. Even for July, it was frigid as fuck at night. The day would become hot and stupid and then he’d hate Charlie for a little while. 

The second they saw the Welcome to Kansas sign Aaron could see Charlie’s body sag with relief. Did she think they weren’t going to make?

They come upon a town that Charlie decides isn’t crawling with too many people they need to run from. They are surrounded by cornfields so if they need an escape plan, just start running in any direction, the thought makes her laugh until he explains to her that people can actually get lost in the fields for hours. She finds a room at a desolated Motel 6 where they can bathe and get some sleep before going back out on the road again. Aaron is thankful for lukewarm water and soap. He gets the feeling that she wants to take a turn at the bar they passed on the way in. 

“I’m going to be out for a while. Thinking maybe we could get some horses for the rest of the trip. Maybe there might be talk of where Colonel Asshole and Mini Monroe are. Try not to get yourself killed.” 

When she leaves he pulls out another book from his pack and finds his bookmark with help from the candlelight.

“Turning more and more into a Mini Miles,” he says under his breath.

“I can still hear you,” she hollers from the other side of the door.

When she finds the bar two blocks away from the run-down motel she decides that she’ll allow herself to get pleasantly buzzed tonight. After all, she deserves it. What with having the man she’s been pining over for months to bring all her dirty thoughts about him to a reality and then completely abandoning her just when she thought something was about to happen between them. Shit, don’t cry, she thinks to herself.

She spots a stool at the end of the bar next to a group of loud men. Charlie knows that if anything happens tonight it will be because the man sitting next to her started it. She’s not in the mood to deal with other people’s bullshit. She orders a jar of moonshine from the bartender but she can’t get away without participating in a little small talk with him.

“I have a feeling you might be a little too young to hold all that alcohol,” He smirks at her with crooked, white teeth. He has a boyish look to her that makes her think he is probably quite a popular bed warmer in town. Unfortunately for him his looks are too boyish and not enough masculine. His eyes slide to the mark on her wrist.

“I was kidnapped and taken to a re-education camp. Then I escaped. That’s all there is to it.” It’s not a complete lie but the apologetic look he gives her lets her know that story set the tone for the rest of the evening she’ll have. He leaves her alone the remainder of the night.

Later on, the man next to her gets tired of the conversation he’s having with his friends, he introduces himself as Levi. He looks like the kind of man that doesn’t take his time to think about things and jumps into fights at the drop of a hat. He is good looking, she’ll give him that. He seems to think himself pretty smart and worldly. What Levi doesn’t know is that she’s been listening to everyone’s conversations in the bar, but his is the only one she deemed important enough to focus on. She’s heard him speak of taking a group up north to take over a camp of ex-militia and claim it as their own.

Charlie decides this could mean one of three things. One, he is way too confident in his skills and will probably get himself killed. Two, he’s part of a larger group of men and getting ready to expand it. Or three, he’s one of Connor’s men. But that last guess doesn’t seem too possible. They shouldn’t be this far south in Kansas. Unless they are already moving to meet up with Miles and everyone.

She buys him and his two buddies a round to loosen up their tongues.

“So what do you guys do? Are you guys part of a war clan or something?” She asks quietly. His flirty grin lets her know she hit it on the nose.

“Something like that.”

“Oh, well if you guys need another swordsman, I’m your girl,” she runs her fingers down the sword sheath resting on the side of his leg. The moonshine gives her enough of an edge to flirt back with him.

“Were going up north to see if we’re a match against some army of assholes we hear is on the move. But, I’ll put in a good word for my boss if you’re interested.” The other two men laugh and giggle behind him. 

As the night goes on the three men boast about their travels and their kills; they know they’re doing humanity a favor by killing some of the bastards they’ve come across.   
They tell her stories about the group they travel with. When they tell her about their leader her breath catches in her throat and her eyes go wide. She can already hear opportunity knocking. 

“Yeah the Boss is a pretty cool guy. He easy on the eyes too, if you know what I mean.” The three men giggle and she suspects there is a joke in that comment somewhere. “But he’s also pretty deadly. The only way to run the clan is if you killed the previous leader yourself. So he’s got all these attempts of assassination from his own guys and new guys trying to make a name for themselves. He’s a bit new. Only been with us for about a month. I swear they guy is crazy though,” Levi says with a secretive grin.

She pretends to be fascinated and only rolls her eyes when they turn away from her to flag down the boyish bartender for another round.

“So if I were to come and find you guys in a few days how would I get to you?” 

The man must be a sucker for pretty blue eyes and a young body because here he is, telling her how to find them in the deserted town just a mile and a half north of this town.

 

Aaron wakes up to Charlie sneaking into the room smelling like alcohol and tobacco. He looks up from the ratty old bed and she smiles down at him before sitting on the edge of the bed. He lights the candle on the nightstand, sensing that she wants to talk with him. She looks at him apprehensively and he can tell this conversation is going in a serious direction.

“Did you know that Monroe and Connor want to bring back the Republic?”

“Yeah, but don’t worry- they won’t get the chance. Not with Rachel and Miles running around with a hero complex.”

“No. They aren’t going to get a chance because I’m going to be running things from now on.”

“I’m sorry. What do you mean by that?”

“You told me once about democracy and that’s what I want. I want people to be able to choose between what they want and need.”

“If you haven’t noticed people have gone a little batshit crazy. I don’t think they know what’s best for them.”

Charlie nods in understanding and goes to her back pack on the floor. He watches her dig around for bullet clips and gets the impression she’s going to go Rambo as soon as she slides the string of her bow over her shoulder. She’s tucking two guns in the back of her pants and under her jacket when he finally decides to speak up.

“Are we leaving already or are you going to leave me here and do something stupid?”

When she looks up at him from her pack he gets shivers. He’s seen that look on her a few times. She’s ready to do something big and it will probably be very difficult to pull off without a hitch. He rubs his temples, the feeling of a migraine coming up quickly.

“We’re just going to go kill a man and take his army, okay?” She smiles like it’s no big deal.

Aaron wants to scream on frustration. All the signs were there but he was just too worried about her emotional state to see them. 

“You’re trying to start a democratic nation tonight, aren’t you?” His nerves snap to life when she gives him a silent nod. “And you need this army to do that.” Another nod from her in the affirmative makes him want to cry.

Aaron starts shoving his belongings into his own backpack, tying not to let his anger show in his actions. Not like she’d care though. He knows that she will go off and do whatever the hell she wants. After he puts his jacket on he turns to face her.

“Alright. Lets go get your army. Is it an army? How many guys are we talking about here?” He follows her out the door.

“About four wagons filled to the brim with weapons and supplies. A dozen horses and one hundred men and women to blindly follow their leader into battle.”

When they get outside to the wrecked sidewalk he can see the moon high and bright in the sky. Wherever they are going he knows they’ll have enough light to sneak around in. It must be like two in the morning so he’s not surprised to see the town completely abandoned. 

“Of course.” He tries not to sound like an asshole but he knows he’s failing. “Sounds like you had a pretty productive night.”

“It’ll only get better. Brace yourself, we’ve got almost two miles of walking ahead of us and then we might run into some trouble. You think you could make a good enough decoy and buy me like thirty minutes?”

He can see the gears turning in her head again. She’s making plans.

“I could definitely try.”

“Good. While you have the guns on you I’ll be slashing someone’s throat.”

“Productive indeed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never intended for people to be so into this. It was honestly just a prompt for me to at least finish a story before I started on my own original one. Becasue I never finish things. Ever. I should also start paying for hulu again because I have only watched half of the second season. So, shit.  
> Is it bad that I want to start on other stories before ending this one?  
> I would also like to thank LemonSupreme for Jeff Buckley and Wilco. Everyone could benefit from some music re-education from time to time.


	5. Get the ball rolling.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a peek at what Bass and Charlie are up to.

Bass is surrounded by tents filled with men and women alike. They are getting ready to cross into Kansas tomorrow and he can’t sleep. And it’s not because of the rowdiness of the horses or the laughter coming from a few ratty tents several feet away. The stew made earlier in the day sits in a metal cup at his feet, untouched and turning cold. His mind doesn’t stop wandering to her.

He thinks about Charlie. With her soft hair and expressive face. He would give anything to see her raise a mocking eyebrow at him. He wants to hear her voice and be directly next to her. Bass worries for her, not for the first time- but in an entirely different way. It used to be that he just needed to keep her alive. He never wanted to find out what Rachel or Miles would do if she got herself killed or hurt in his presence. Now he just needs her by his side to know that she is okay. These past months of unknowing is eating him alive. She could be captured by Patriots (if they were smart enough to realize who she is). Or she could have gone off and pulled another equally stupid stunt of infiltrating a Patriot’s base of operations. Fuck, she could have just gotten hurt walking around in the freaking wilderness. If anything happens to her, he will hunt down and kill Aaron. No questions.

He startles when Miles sits down to the left of him. Bass would never see him coming but he should have been alert to the approaching footsteps crunching on the grass.

“I shouldn’t have made you chose.”

Miles doesn’t know what else to say. He never thought of anything between his ex-best friend turned ally and his niece to be something tangible enough to put the man in such a dark place. Or to make her go off on another unexpected road trip.

When the two of them show some of the men a few tactics in swordplay or disarming he watches Bass. He can see the restraint the man has. The look in his eyes tells any opponent of his that he will cut them down. Not many of the men last more than two rounds with Bass. Miles can see the dark pit of anger that he holds back. In the beginning he thought he would need this rage on their side to do certain things that he was afraid to do himself. 

“I can’t put into words how much I hate you right now. Nothing, no one, was real before her.”

“We’ll get her back. I’m sure she’s already in Missouri with your kid and Colonel Turncoat. I don’t know why the douche is helping us but he seems to have a lot of issues with the new-”

“Miles, I’m holding in a lot of words and actions that you’re not gonna like if you don’t get away from me right now,” his voice is silent and straining to contain his anger.

 

They are in the cover of a bunch of overgrown weeds and bushes sharing looks at the war-clan camp with Charlie’s binoculars. They’re absolutely certain which tent the leader is in. It has five armed men around it. Two at the front entrance and three surrounding the other sides. She’s already decided which man is going to be easiest to take out quietly. 

“Are you ready?”

“No, I’m no where near ready. If there really are one hundred people in the clan then that’s one hundred people you have to get pass,” Aaron is about to have a coronary.

She smile over at him and speaks condescendingly, “I already told you. Sneaking in is going to be the easy part. Now go.”

Aaron pulls his flask out and drinks every last drop. It’s not very much, but he’s going to need it either way. He stands up frpm their cover of brush and starts walking toward an entrance. The whole thing is surrounded by barbed wire. Easy to crawl under, but not if people are looking for you to get pass it.

Charlie holds her breath in as she watches him approach the group of men. She’ll admit that Aaron has excellent acting skills. She can hear him sobbing and screaming incoherent things to the men. They all look confused. Some of them put their guns down and try to calm the drunken man. He pulls one of the young men to him in a fierce hug, clutching at the mans clothes, all the blubbering and yelling.

“Cynthia! Why, you evil God?!”

He has drawn a rather large crowd with his hysterics. It’s just enough cover for her to unnoticeably run to the base of the barbed wire and sneak into their camp grounds. A man and a few women immediately pop their heads out of a nearby tent.

“What the hell is going on out there?” One of the women asks.

“Some drunk came stumbling in and started screaming about his dead wife. I’ve never seen him before,” she says casually. Charlie angles her arms back to make it look like she’s scratching the small of her back. It wouldn’t do anyone good to see the machete hanging from her hand.

“I hate messy drunks,” the man says before pulling the two women back into his tent.

Charlie walks to the back of the leaders tent. Behind it, most lights in the other tents have been snuffed out, leaving just the one man to deal with her. The lanterns placed among the grounds give her enough light to see that he not only has a riffle but he’s flipping a pocket knife around in boredom. She walks towards him casual enough to make it seem like she’s just on her way through.

He doesn’t get enough time to defend himself before she raises her arm and takes a swipe across his neck. She can feel his blood spatter on her cheeks and eyelashes. Charlie latches on to his limp body and eases him to the ground. 

With a slash through the fabric she’s bursting in and immediately tripping over some shit. A stool? A chair? What ever it is she’s back up in a second and spot the man sitting up from his cot and reaching for his gun. She slaps it out of his hand with the blunt end of the machete and it falls to the ground. She kicks it away and jumps him, pinning him down. Only now does Charlie get a good enough look at the man below her.

“Levi?”

He takes stock of the sharp end of the machete pressed up against his throat. He can feel it cutting into the curve of his hand as he holds it back from his neck. She pushes down harder on him.

“Are you hear to kill me or to have sex with me?” she can feel her face shift into anger and he must have realized it was the wrong thing to say because his face starts to look desperate. “You can’t kill me kid. If you do then you’re gonna be next in line- and trust me, they won’t stop trying to kill you because you’re a cute little girl.” He starts to move and she can tell he’s about to raise his hips and buck her off of him. 

He anticipates her next move too.

Levi screams out as the machete cuts through his flesh and the tendons in his neck. Charlie feels a bit of blood spurt out of an artery. Some of it hits the side if the tent next to his cot but most of it coats her neck and shoulders.

The two men that guard the entrance to Levi’s tent come running in through the flap and she grabs her gun. Charlie has it aimed at one of their heads and manages to speak in the steadiest voice she can.

“According to this guy,” she gestures with a tilt of her head. “I’m the leader now. Simon Says put the guns down.”

They lower their guns. 

“Awesome, now drop ‘em.”

One of the men is by far the bulkiest man she has ever seen. If he wanted to her could run her into the ground and kill her just as easily with a tackle. But he doesn’t. When he turns to look at the short and angry-looking man next to him questioningly she gets the idea that Big & Bulky doesn’t do a lot of his own thinking.

The guns clatter together at their feet and they put their hands up in surrender.

“So, what do we call you? Simon?”

“No, Charlie is fine. Lets go find that drunk idiot who came wandering in earlier. Okay?” 

They nod. Charlie instructs them to walk backwards out of the tent with their hands up, they comply without argument.

“We’re appointed to whomever the leader of the clan is. We won’t hurt you. It’s or duty to protect you. You can take your gun off of us.” They step out and into the light of many lanterns.

“Holy Shit, you’re just a kid.” The short one is surprised and she can see his eyes bulge out of his head. "Are you like fifteen or something?"

“Look, I’ve been doing this for a long time. I’ve been trained by the Scourge of Scranton and the Butcher of Baltimore. I’m not afraid of you.”

Which is true. Right now she's not afraid of anyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so excited for them to finally see each other in the next chapter! Well, if by see each other I actually mean Bass and Miles come face to face with Charlie and her army.


	6. I think you're going insane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's extremely un-beta'd. Sorry. Sort of.

Charlie looks down at the man on his knees in front of her. The two of them are surrounded by what is now her own clan to lead. There is blood pouring out of his nose in thick ribbons and his green eyes look fierce and angry. She’s been his leader for nearing three weeks now and she has to say, she expected his rebellion all along. In the morning she would train with the men and women, mostly the women though (Levi thought them as a better distraction than a force to be reckoned with) and the man would come after her. It wouldn’t strike her as unusual, because she was conditioning and training them, but he would always try to get her on her back. This morning he managed to do so and then proceeded to choke her out. 

Everyone crowded around them waiting to see who would be the victor and maybe the new leader. The attempt was futile at best. He was sitting too far up on her chest. Practically on top of her breasts which gave her all the leg movement she needed to bring her knees close to her own head and wrap them around his head before straightening out her body and pushing the back of his head into the ground in front of her as she sat up. Something that had been boiling under the surface when she slashed Levi’s neck arose and snapped. She leaned up and pinned his arms far above is head so she could choke him out right back. From some perfect asshole she doesn’t like to think of, Charlie had learned just where to press to make the windpipe crush instantly but for some reason she felt the need to draw it out and look down at him with every bit of hate left in her body from Califronia.

She doesn’t feel bad though, she warned everyone what would happen to them if they tried to come after her. 

“I was told the only way to get this gig is if you kill the leader. But I can promise you one thing; if you fail at your attempt, your life is mine to do whatever I want with,” she announced to the large crowd at one point.

Earlier in her first few weeks of reign as “Queen Supreme” (a moniker Aaron delightfully made up for her) she gathered four men and one woman who had noticed something very special about her from the moment she introduced herself as their new leader. She spoke to them about her plan for a democratic nation, united as they were before, and her words resonated in the minds of many of the men and women in the clan. One of the men was ex-militia who got his ass out of Monroe’s wicked game before shit got crazy. Another man said he was in the Marines, served three tours in Afghanistan and lead all the tactical assaults the clan carried out. Another man, closest to her age and nicknamed Mouse, was an explosions expert. Charlie missed having one of those brains around. And finally, the woman, who was an engineer. She would stay in Charlie’s tent at night, keeping her safe from harmful assassins and working with Aaron into the early morning hours on new weapons. They had just built Charlie a thirteen foot tall catapult with eight other members the night before. 

Aaron explained to her that it would only take one horse to move it (they had it fixed to a base on tires) and only two men to work it. And it did work, wonderfully. She very clearly stated that she knew for a fact that the Monroe Republic was starting to gain ground and if they wanted to make it out on the other side they would have to be ready with a counter attack. The woman proposed if they came to the end of their ropes they would start pelting giant balls of fire and rock upon anyone who stood against them. 

Now as she looked down at the man in front of her nobody crowded her or dare questioned her actions. It was almost like a tribunal for them to witness. Aaron watches her from the sidelines of the crowd quietly waiting to see if she’ll spare him or slaughter him like the countless other men and women she took down on their way here. Charlie feels fury deep in her belly and a coldness draping thick over her body like tar when she pulls her sword out from its sheath and advances on the man.

 

Bass and Miles rode an hour ahead of Rachel, Gene and their army from Happydale. Its getting dark but they know exactly where they’re heading.

“If she isn’t here I will… God, I don’t know what I’ll do but you better pray to God she’s here Miles.”

“We are going to find her Bass. I promise. Charlie is too stubborn to let anything take her down for too long. As far as we know she could be with your boy and Colonel Asshat already.” 

Bass steers his horse right up against Miles, to the point they are rubbing legs, when he looks over at Bass he sees the reckless anger of a commanding dictator paint his face. 

“No. I’m serious. I think of Charlie and then I think of all the things I would do to get her back and keep her with me. I will tear down any man to get back to her. Even you.”

Miles rolls his eyes as Bass kicks the horse in the ribs, nudging him to go faster. As the two speed off ahead of him Miles thinks of all the crazy Romeo and Juliet shit that’s been spilling out of Bass’ mouth lately. If the circumstances were different, if Bass were talking about anyone else, if Miles didn’t feel like this was his entire fault he thinks he could see the humor in it. But it isn’t. He can tell Bass is going nuts without Charlie and he can tell Bass blames himself for the way she snuck off into the night three months ago.

When the two come upon the giant army camp in Kansas run by Connor and Colonel Baker they are surprised at how orderly and functional and huge the place is. It looks like there are five hundred men living on the grounds. When they approached the entrance already off their horses with their arms up in offense to nearly ten armed men in tailored green uniforms they were even more surprised when they were escorted directly to a strategizing tent where Connor, Jeremy and a few other men were pouring over a map with four red large circles covering an expanse of land. All but one had a precise black check mark over them.

“We’ve been waiting for you,” Connor moved to shake hands with his father before flashing a grin at Miles.

“Is Charlie here with you guys?” Bass asks quickly looking around the room to make sure he didn’t miss her.

Connor shakes his head no and tries to introduce Bass and Miles to the other men at the table. They are Jeremy and Connor’s second-in-commands. Bass completely ignores any attempt at introductions and turns to face the Colonel.

“Do you guys know where she is? You should have heard something about her or crossed paths with her by now!” 

Bass is storming around the tent and kicking little wooden chairs over and growling to himself to contain his anger.

Miles can see a “what the hell?” look cross the Colonel's face before the man says,

“I don’t understand what the hell you guys have going on but there is word all over and from this kid,” he points his thumb back in the direction of Connor, “that you’re thinking of restarting the Republic.”

“I just wanted to know if she was here and now that she’s not here I gotta go look all over fuck-me-in-the-ass Kansas for her!” Bass is starting to make his way out of the tent, uncaring of the mess or war path he is on when Connor tells him to wait.

“There’s a some shithead running around just north of us preaching about democracy.”

“And?” Miles frowns, this doesn’t sound like a big problem.

“Some little chick just took over a war-clan. It wouldn’t mean anything to us but then we heard reports from our scouts that there was a fat dorky looking guy with glasses always hanging around her. Some of the people living in the town just north of them say the leader was trained by the Butcher of Baltimore and the Scourge of Scranton. 

Bass doesn’t make it out of the tent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And you thought Bass was going nuts now. Just you wait.  
> Btw, I skipped an hour of Karaoke for you guys!  
> Also btw, I don't hate Kansas. At all.


	7. Traveling North to Find You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Bass and Miles come face to face with Connor and Colonel Jeremy they find out what Charlie's been up to. Sort of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Un-Beta'd. Sorry, but not sorry enough to have my friends read through it for me.  
> hayj, this one is for you. Because I think you may be even more excited about this than I am.

Bass freezes before exiting the tent through its flaps. 

He can feel his heart in his throat. This is his chance. His chance to find her and get her back. To convince Charlie that she is all he's ever wanted. He can feel his pulse humming, making his bones shake under his skin. Bass can tell he’s about to do something completely crazy to get her back. He just hasn’t planned what it is yet.

“Do you think it could be Aaron and Charlie?” he hears Miles asks Connor.

Connor looks around the men in the room for a second before the Colonel gets the hint and dismisses the men from the room. Connor has Bass’ full attention now.

“It’s very possible. However, we aren’t sure how to get in contact with her. We’ve had our eyes on them for a while now but the report of the two having matching characteristics to Charlie and Aaron just came in this morning. Until now we didn’t even know what the leader looked like. Just that she was a woman. By the way, Rachel’s letter made it sound like you were arriving with an army. Where’s it at?”

“They’re on their way, " Miles glares at Connor. It's not like they would show up to a war empty-handed.

"Where exactly is this clan located at?” Bass inquires.

Miles can’t help but roll his eyes. Bass’ thoughts are clearly trained on his niece; there has been no indication of anything else going on in his mind the past few months. Just Charlie and his fury when he lost her. Looking at Bass now Miles can see something powering up behind his blue eyes. It makes Miles feel like an asshole for making him choose between a life of staying away from Charlie and completely losing her. He’s come to terms with the fact that eventually something big is going to take place between Bass and his niece and he’s just going to have to deal with it. Separating them was obviously a terrible idea.

The Colonel instructs Bass and Miles to look at the map spread across the rickety table in the middle of the tent. They four men gather around it and Bass’ eyes roam it quickly taking in all the landmarks and cities, creaks and roads- looking for a path to Charlie.

“What’s up with the big red dots?” he asks quietly. It is taking Bass a lot of self-restraint to stay here with them, but it’s not like he would know where to start searching for her anyways.

“The three men you met in here earlier? These are where they had their clans stationed,” Connor gestures to the check marks. “We’ve convinced them to pretty much be our underlings if they want to be on the winning side. With your men coming in we’ll have at least two hundred more supporters than the Patriots, or that’s what our sources tell us. There are a lot of resourceful men and women out there in those tents willing to put an end to this civil war the Patriots started with the rebels.”

“Okay what about this little circle up here?” Bass points to the smallest red circle at the north of the map. It doesn’t have a check mark on it.

“That might be where she is.”

“Why doesn’t it have a check going through it like the other circles?” Miles asks. 

“Because we don’t have control of that clan yet. It’s relatively new compared to the others we’ve conquered and combined with our own. Also, we’ve got some information that this clan is by far one of the most deadly in the area now. Who ever this new leader is, she’s turning people fast with her talk of bettering the nation through unity and shit. However, we’ve been paying attention to it for over a month now. It’s been attacked twice. Once from the inside and once from a smaller neighboring clan to the west. We believe the clan was run by two different people at the times. The first time it was attacked they placed headless bodies surrounding their perimeter a few hundred yards away. It’s a clear warning not to fuck with them. After the last attack a few men were tied up to a stake in the middle of the base and left there for a week. One out of the five men survived and he’s now a permanent member of the clan.”

Bass and Miles look at Connor with horror. 

“Are you fucking serious right now? Headless bodies?” Miles can feel his stomach turn at the thought of Charlie running a clan as barbaric as this one. What on earth did she get herself into? 

“So she’s running around with a bunch psychopaths and ripping people’s heads off their bodies?” Bass looks completely perplexed, unbelieving of it all. He doesn’t know what’s been happening to Charlie the time they’ve been apart. He’s been praying for her safety and to reunite with her soon. He had no idea she would fall into dark a pit as he did. He wonders if he’s going to be able to rescue her from it quick enough.

“No, she’s leading the clan that rips people’s heads off their bodies,” Jeremy clarifies with a smirk. “If it’s really her, that is.” 

Bass nods without looking up from the map. Miles watches as he processes the information in his head. Bass keeps nodding as he takes the paperweights off the map and tries to start rolling it up.

“She’s going to get herself killed out there if she pisses enough people off,” Bass says more to himself than anyone in the room. Honestly, when he got here he was planning on seeing Charlie, not hearing that she was trying to start a freaking democracy with her own crazy clan of killers. This place doesn’t need democracy; the nation needs a better version of the Monroe reign. He was planning on taking a bath and changing out of the dirty clothes he’s been wearing for the two day ride and then talking to her. Convincing Charlie that he needs her just as much as he needs to fix everything he’s fucked up in the past.

“Are you going to get her?” Connor asks. he feels like he already knows the answer judging from the look of determination now making residence on Bass' face. 

Bass gives a quiet nod to the men around him before walking out of the tent, unrolling the map as he suddenly realizes he doesn’t know this area that well. The sun is getting ready to set on the land in a few hours and from the looks of the map she is around three hours north of them.

He’s been walking for probably only two minutes and when he looks up he’s immediately lost in a sea of tents and green tailored men and women going about their duties or relaxing. Connor catches up with him and steers him to the right. As they walk further along Bass comes to more of his senses and he can hear the whispers of the people around him. They probably didn’t expect to see a living Sebastion Monroe walking around in a leather jacket, sword on his hip, face red from the entire day riding, and wearing dirty dust-covered clothes. Or at least a man that looks eerily similar to him.

“Why is it a fucking maze here?”

“It’s for protection,” he can hear the pride in his son’s voice as Connor steers him through the tents and people.

Bass looks at him sees the way his son’s eyes light up and he knows the maze was his idea. It’s smart though. If you had someone sneaking around your campgrounds you don’t want them to have any clue of where they’re going. It’s an excellent trick in disorientation.

“Don’t you want to sit down or get something to eat? Miles says you guys have been riding for like ten hours straight. That’s a lot for an old man such as yourself.”

Bass stops and immediately turns to look down Connor.

“I’m not going to fall for that old man shit. Do you even know how old I am? Besides your tactic of getting me to slow down isn’t going to work. Where are your horses? Actually, you're coming with me. You know these parts better than I do.”

Connor rolls his eyes and turns them into another direction. Hopefully towards the horses. His eyes flick back down to the map, reviewing every natural structure on it until he can clearly see it in his head.

Miles is waiting for them atop a large black horse when Connor leads him to the arena. Bass feels more comfortable about this mission knowing that Miles will be coming with him. He doesn’t know what Charlie will do when he sees her but something tells him it won’t be very pleasant. Miles’ company could surely lessen the blow.

“Took you long enough. Jeremy isn’t sure whether we’re going to be able to take over Charlie’s clan or just sneak in and steal her in the middle of the night but he’s prepared to send reinforcements if we don’t come back in five hours. We better hurry if we’re going to get anywhere before it’s dark.”

Bass nods and climbs on to a horse handed off by one of Connor’s men. His pack is slung on the back of the saddle along with a machine gun, which he hopes he won’t have to use tonight.

The second Connor is seated on his horse they take off in his stead. In a few hours Bass will be face to face with Charlie and that is the only thought on his mind as they ride to the town a few hours north of Connor and Colonel Baker’s base of operations.

He doesn’t plan to let her leave him ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first rough-drafts had some weird sexual tension between Jeremy and Connor (at this point I like it enough that I may write it in a few chapters because that is just something that I have never seen before) and I wasn't sure the good people of Charloe were ready for that.


	8. Leading Up to You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie has traveled their world and lived in it long enough to know what's wrong with it. She's been smart enough to ask the right questions about it and observe the steps people are taking to ensure their place in it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Never Beta'd but always written with love.  
> Those looking for a reunion are going to hate me by the end of this chapter.   
> Don't worry, you have to be patient for great things.

His beard scratching her breasts raw as he sucked and bit her nipples and the throaty groan he makes every time she responds to him with whimpers.

The heat of skin to skin contact and the twitching of thighs as experienced fingers run laps around her body come to her with a force.

With help from the moderately warm August night air Charlie wakes up in a cold sweat. Her t-shirt and bra stick to her body like gloves and she can feel all sorts of dampness in the jeans she passed out earlier tonight in. The sticky feeling of sweat escaping from her pores makes her feel dirty. Her insides are tingling and all her bones are quivering like the end of a rattlesnake. She hasn't been able to find time away from her posse long enough to properly get herself off but she doubts any “self-love” is going to do trick now that she knows how far her body can go.

Nothing will ever be enough. Not after a night like the one back in the motel. Most nights she doesn't get the dreamless sleep she somehow found when she was traveling with her family and friends. Now she gets images of him and memories of touch that leave her waking up with oversensitive skin and a yearning he has placed inside her. It's become a usual occurrence; he's become a usual occurrence. She understands Miles a little bit better now. All those attempts of taking down General Monroe once and for all. Her mother was always warning her of the poison he seemed to leave behind in the people he made contact with. She hates admitting it, but maybe her mother was right on this occasion. Sometimes she wonders what will happen when she sees him. The possibility that their paths will cross again is a given. Especially now that she's planning to take his throne away from him. She highly doubts he'll be willing to go down without a fight.

Charlie lets out a groan of frustration and rips the cotton blanket away from her cot and off her body.

Aaron and the lady engineer look up from the table near the front of the tent. Her brow is furrowed in intense concentration as she goes over her papers. Light from an oil lamp casts dark and surreal shadows on the corners of their faces. They look up from their books and drawings to see her and she must look something awful because concern crosses Aaron's face swiftly.

“Are you alright?” the engineer asks her.

“I'm fine. Just ready to get the day on. We have some more training to do and I want to see one of those catapults in action.” She sits on the side of her cot and runs her hands through her hair to pull it away from the sweaty base of her neck. The chill brings about a covering of goosebumps over exposed skin. The feeling makes her itch. The leftover memories of her dream makes her itch.

She can feel a frown marring her features before she can stop it.

“It's two in the morning. Go back to bed and I'll wake you up in four hours.” Aaron says glancing over at the windup clock on the table in front of him.

“Awesome,” she says unenthusiastically. Her body is awake and her mind is restless, no way she's just going to fall back asleep tonight. 

“And if you could stop talking in your sleep we'd all feel a little less awkward come morning,” the engineer adds before ducking down to the table and tracing lines from a previous sketch. Aaron snorts and goes back to his book.

Charlie throws herself back onto the cot with a groan. She wonders what truths she let slip past her lips this time while she slept.

A few days ago ago Aaron had surprised her with his extensive knowledge of what is going on in her head. Or rather what's going on in her head while she sleeps. His first concern was that she always was very restless and most nights were sleepless for her. When he asked her if there was anything she might need to get off her chest to reduce her anxiety or stress she told him no. 

But then he went on to add that she talks to Monroe while she sleeps.

“I talk to him?” she had asked. Oh God, what had she said aloud? She could practically feel her chest concaving and her heart beating in her throat due to embarrassment.

He nodded and his eyes narrowed as if trying to read her mind.

“You say just about everything at night that you can't tell anyone in the day. It's very strange Charlie. No wonder you're so...” He immediately stops mid-sentence. She is unsure whether he stopped himself because he doesn't know what to say or because he doesn't want her to know what he thinks.

“I'm so what?” She asks carefully. There has never been a time in her life when Aaron has withheld something from her. So this is new and a little bit unsettling. He sighs and looks at the men and women in the encampment, his eyes follow groups as they go about their chores but Charlie knows he's gathering months of information and trying to compound it into a few words.

“You tell him that you hate him and sometimes you tell him that you're sorry and that you miss him. When I woke you a few nights ago you were thrashing around with your blanket yelling that you should have slapped him harder and you wish he would leave you alone and die. It's like you go into a panic about him when you sleep. It's not normal at all. Recently, you've changed. You're exhibiting a few signs of paranoia too. Moving your cot to a different spot every night. Sending a unit of men to check up on another unit of men you sent out in Texas. You're becoming so organized and meticulous over the smallest and stupidest things. You almost went into a craze the other day because you couldn't stand the extra chair left at the table in your tent. People don't usually do that, Charlie. You don't do that. If you aren't helping to train your little Army of Democracy then you hole yourself up inside your tent like some basket-case with social anxiety tendencies. The only people you let in are your Furious Five team and me. You're losing touch with people. When they approach you, you count the weapons you can see on them before they make it within ten paces of you. And maybe you don't realize it but you always have your hand on your sword.”

She is about to contest everything he says until she finds that she does in fact have her hand curled around the hilt of her sword. The hilt is warm from body heat and she realizes she's been holding it ever since she stepped out of her tent to make her morning rounds and issue her commands for the day this morning.

“You tied five people to a pole for a week. Only one of them survived and he's too scared to actually leave now.”

“Well I could have just cut their heads off and sent the bodies into the nearest surrounding towns. Word would get around and people would know we mean business. Either way those men were going to die. We couldn't let them leave. And stop psychoanalyzing me. I'm not a sociopath or a psychopath or whatever.”

“You're borderline, Kiddo. And right now you're teetering on a dangerously thin ledge.”

Aaron runs his hands through his hair and tries to calm himself down. He tells himself this is Charlotte Matheson. Moral Compass of Miles Matheson and Compassionate Daughter of Ben.

In the beginning she was just a little girl wondering around and looking for her savior. Somewhere along the way she became this super soldier that hunted down her targets with ease and little consideration; an Angel of Death if there ever were one. But she's so smart. Smarter than he ever gave her credit for. Not only is she the fiercest little girl he's ever met but she's also the most influential and wisest. Charlie has traveled their world and lived in it long enough to know what's wrong with it. She's been smart enough to ask the right questions about it and observe the steps people are taking to ensure their place in it.

But the girl who was starring back at him with the hurt look on her face doesn't act like Charlotte Matheson. He's been questioning her own morals lately too. Especially after the stunt a few weeks ago when a man tried to attack her during practice and she cut him down like he was nothing at all, not even human. Nearly decapitating the man in front of a silent and suddenly quite submissive crowd. 

Now, Aaron looks back to her unmoving form across the tent on her cot. She isn't sleeping, just laying there. He wonders if she thinks about what she's doing to herself. Does she see the dark pit she's falling into? Is she thinking about the plans she's made for their country, unsure if she can actually carry through with it? But after she kidnaps the figure-heads of the Patroits and the Texas Rangers what is she going to do with them? Kill the President? Enslave what's left of the government to do her bidding?

Sudden gunshots interrupt putting an end to the peaceful night and his thoughts. Charlie is on her feet in seconds. Margot, the engineer has her gun out and steps away from the table.

“That sounded a little far away,” Aaron says.

“I swear if this is another drunken brawl I'm taking away everyone’s booze,” Charlie mutters to herself as she slips on her boots and fastens her sword to her side. The ex-marine simply named Delgado and the ex-Miltia man step inside the tent together. They look frustrated with having been woken up so early. 

“G'morning Delgado and Mark,” her voice is authoritative. “Do you already have a report? That was fast.” Authoritative, but cheeky.

“Miss, we believe there were shots fired along the river.” Delgado says to the group.

“I had a few of my men doing rounds in the area just now. It's possible they may have come upon something,” Mark reports.

“Okay. Mark take a group of men to the river and find out what's happening. If there's anyone alive by the time you get there bring them back with you. If they're nobodies put them in the holding cell and we'll figure out what to do with them tomorrow. If it's someone who may be of importance or opportunity then tie 'em up outside to the stakes and get me immediately. Delgado will be going with you. You will take lead on this, Mark. Questions?”

The two men shook their head no.

“If you aren't back in two hours I'm coming after you. Dismissed.”

Mark and Delgado exit the tent immediately. Margot fastens her gun back to her hip and sat back down to pour over her notes.

“You aren't going back to sleep are you?” Aaron asks before settling down in his chair across from the engineer.

“After all this excitement? Nope.” She runs her hands across the crown of her head, wiping the sweat that accumulated there during her nighttime musings. She pulls a chair back from the table and sets her tattered US History book down and the windup clock in the space in front of the chair. “But hopefully they'll be back soon and we won't have another clan war on our hands.”

“We're about two hundred strong now. We have catapults and I'm working on designs for a cannon. Any war-clan to go against us now would have to be filled to the brim with imbeciles or death-seeking men.” Margot doesn't look up from her sketches this time, as she speaks Charlie can practically hear the smile underneath her breath. The amount of faith this woman has put in her astounds her sometimes.

 

Conner leads Miles and Bass north through the terrain. They ride as hard and fast as the horses can take them, trying to cover enough ground while there is still light to guide them to her. When the moon is high in the night sky and shines down on them like a spotlight Bass has run over everything he wants to say to Charlie in his head. How much he'll be able to say, he's unsure. The entire ride Miles has been quiet. Bass doesn't really expect him to be jumping with elation over the thought of seeing his niece again but he thought there would be some kind of emotion going on in his stupid head. Maybe Charlie is going to get her ass handed to her not only by himself but also by her Uncle. She needs it if she thinks she can just creep off into the night like a thief with his heart.

Conner slows his horse down to a slow trot and leads him over to the river they're riding along. Miles' giant black horse pants heavily and immediately douses it's entire face in the river, desperate for a drink. This beast of an animal is obviously not the brightest. Bass pulls the reins tight and slides his body off the side of his horse. The moon illuminates their immediate surroundings but not far enough to make him feel at ease. 

While Bass leads his horse to get a drink from the river Conner sidles up to Miles as inconspicuous as one could in this situation. 

“So I get why you're here. She's your niece and you're sort of like a father-figure to her. But what's he doing coming all this way to get her too? And don't tell me you don't know because even Jeremy was picking up on the frantic waves of stress Monroe was sending out when he found that Charlie wasn't with us. Is there… something going on between the two of them?”

Miles is trying to decide whether he hearing concern or jealousy in the young man's voice when he notices Bass' leisurely gait with the horse has come to a complete stop and the man is standing absolutely still. Miles brings a finger to his lips praying the kid is smart enough to pick up his signal to immediately shut up. Bass' grip on the horse's reins tightens- ready for a quick escape should the need arise. He turns around in a slow circle, barely lifting his boots from the weeds and listening beyond the sounds of the night for anything out of place. Miles slides his gun from his hip and holds it up ready to fire. He passes his horse's reins to Conner when Bass' head whips to the right. 

Suddenly they're being rushed and Conner struggles to keep a hold of the horses. There is flashes of metal and the sound of machetes and swords knocking against each other. Seven men ambush Bass and Miles but Miles has always been quick when firing a gun and cuts the numbers down to three against five very quickly. Bass is trying to drown a man in the river, holding the man's head down when he's suddenly thrown off and on his back. He rolls to his side, evading a gunshot wound to the chest when sudden commands are given to the men from a voice just out of reach.

“He's General Matheson! Don't kill him! She'll want him alive! Stand back!”

Just as quickly as the assault began it ends. The men have taken several feet away from the men and have an array of weapons trained on them. The sudden offensive positions of the men give Bass a hard time trying to figure out what exactly is going on. Weren't they all just about to have a skirmish?

“Grab the horses and tie them up. They're coming with us.”

Before he can make a grab at the concealed throwing knife in his jacket he is knocked on the side of the head with the butt of someone's gun. His face goes down to meet the ground fast and the world turns off for a few sweet moments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't been writing because I had a really bad start to the year. My car got smashed into and my new two day old computer, Kindle Fire, pair of shoes, glasses, work ID, buttons my mother gave to me when i graduated middle school, and my old computer which held a new Charloe two-shot that was honest to GOSH the best thing I have EVER written were all stolen. (Guess things aren't safe in the daylight either.)  
> I'm serious. I may have written the best accidentally drugged-out Charloe fic in existence- but we'd never know!   
> So now I'm saving all my stuff to an external drive because my muse was like high on inspiration when I wrote that and now its's all gone. I don't want that to happen again.


	9. The very thought of you makes me cry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The look she gives him breaks his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Un-beta'd  
> I start orientation at a hospital in five hours and I can't sleep. I'm so excited and scared I'm afraid I'll vomit on people when I have to shake their hands or something.

When Bass comes to he keeps his body completely still. There's no point lashing out immediately and letting anyone who captured them know that one of their biggest opponents is now awake and waiting to strike. He controls his breathing into perfectly measured in and outs while he takes a moment to discern what's happening around him. Someone placed a freaking burlap potato sack over his head. It smells like dust and makes it hard to breathe but they must have put it on him to either disorientate him or because they didn't want him to know where they are heading. Beyond the sounds of the rickety wagon they've placed him and the labored breath of whomever is passed out next to him he can her the voices of several men. 

“I never thought I would be alive long enough to see two Matheson's in one place. I'm sure Charlie is looking forward to seeing her family,” A man with a soft voice directly above him says. He must be steering the wagon. “Glad you came when you did otherwise they would be dead or we would.”

A bit of laughter and then someone else speaks.

“Trust me, you would all be dead. I was trained by General Matheson himself- though I doubt he remembers me, and that man is crazy good when it comes to taking down an opponent. Besides, one of those other guys is the late great and deposed President Monroe.”

“Sebastian Monroe? Are you serious? There's been rumors that he wasn't actually executed in Texas but I didn't believe them.” Bass feels pleased with himself when he hears the disbelief and fear ringing in the man's voice. If there was one thing Bass was good at it was surprising people, and maybe killing a lot of them at once. “Well what the hell is he doing out here running around with her uncle? I thought General Matheson and General Monroe hated each other. Did you know about this, Delgado?”

“No, Charlie doesn't usually tell us about her family. She just told us who they were and to keep them alive. I don't know what kind of trouble they're in but if they're on Monroe's side I can guess why she left them in California.”

Thank you God. He's on his way to Charlie. He's only half listening to what the men are saying; he can't think of anything beyond the thought of seeing her and the pain in his head.

It feels like he's been waiting for this moment forever. Of course when he pictured their reunion he would press her into his body and claim her until she fully understood just how much he needed her in his life. He would kiss and lick away all the pain he brought to her with his rejection. By the time he was done talking and touching her there would be absolutely no doubt in her mind that they belonged together. They would survive the war and she would rein alongside him and Miles as his queen. God he can feel himself choking up in his chest just at the thought of being in the same room with her. This is surely what separation anxiety feels like. So, even though he's tied up with a bag over his head he'll just settle in and wait for the men to take him to her.

“What do you mean?”

“I think they were planning on taking Charlie out and using us in their army against the Patriots. Especially now that Charlie is going to be doing everything she possibly can to make sure Monroe never has a chance at controlling any part of the nation again.” The soft-spoken man named Delgado says.

What the fucking shit?

“What the fucking shit are you talking about? Kill her?!” 

Fuck being still like a snake in the grass and waiting to strike. Bass is astounded that these stupid little fuckers think he was on his way to end Charlie. The thought of hurting her more than he already has makes his stomach lurch. He couldn't kill her if his life depended on it.

“Oh God, he's awake. I'm not ready to deal with this asshole tonight,” a man sighs. 

The men in company look towards the wagon as the supposed Sebastian Monroe starts wiggling around bumping into his passed out wagon mate. Even though his wrists are tied to the point of constricting blood flow to his hands it doesn't actually limit the use of his fingers or movement of his arms on a large enough scale that he can't pull the sack off his head and look around at the men carting him off to Charlie.

A few men holding lanterns and walking beside the wagon look ready to bolt into the treeline the second they get a good enough look at his face. The man steering the wagon looks back in terror until the man sitting next to him pulls a shotgun out and aims it at Bass' head. 

“Get that out of my face. I'm not here to kill Charlie. I would never hurt her, okay?”

“Right,” a man walking next to the wagon says heavy with sarcasm. “You're not here to kill our leader and then use us as a means of reclaiming the Monroe Republic? That's a lie if I ever heard one.”

The man's response strikes a chord in him and suddenly he's doing everything he can to rock himself up to his knees, ready to take on the men and find his own way to Charlie.

“I swear to God if you don't untie me right now I will-” the end of Mark's shotgun slams into the side of Bass' head and he is immediately quieted as his form goes limp and back into its starting position in the bed of the wagon.

“I swear he's going to have permanent brain damage if he doesn't learn how to stop pissing people off.” Conner's muffled voice breaks the uneasiness of the men walking around them. He doesn't move from his position on the other side of Miles prostrate form. He sighs and listens to the rickety wagon and the sound of the wind blowing through the trees, waiting for this trip to end.

 

 

After returning to base they placed the potato sack back over Monroe's head and tied them up to the stakes in the middle of the interrogation tent. A lantern and gunman keep watch over the three men as they figured out a way to tell their own General Matheson that part of her family may have come to kill her and take away her army of men and women to use in the war against President Davis and the Patriots. But how do you tell a person this when they look like they're on the verge of becoming mentally unstable. A push like this could force one to become as paranoid and psychotic as the leader of the Monroe Republic. 

“The answer is simple, we talk to Pittman before we talk to General Matheson,” Mark says to Delgado as they come upon Charlie's tent with trepidation. 

Big and Bulky is guarding the tent and looks at them expectantly.

“We need Aaron, can you bring him out here?”

The guard gives them a look but goes into the tent and returns moments later with Aaron in tow.

“Is there a reason you guys are here at four thirty in the morning asking me to come out and play instead of Charlie?”

Aaron can usually get a smile out of one of the men but the solemn feeling seeping out of Mark and Delgado leaves him worried. 

“Did someone die?” he asks worriedly. He doesn't think the news of another member's death will do Charlie any good at the moment. 

“More like came back from the dead,” Mark says under his breath. The guards keeping watch at Charlie's tent gives him an interested look, clearly eavesdropping in on the conversation. “Just come with us. This is a delicate situation and I don't even know how to begin to explain this.” He sighs, after this unveiling he knows there's going to be too much commotion to get any sleep.

“Well that doesn't sound ominous at all,” Aaron can feel the beginning unpleasantness of anxiety tightening in his chest. Maybe if he went to bed earlier they wouldn't have woken him up to drag him away from his book to the currently unused interrogation tent. But there is a lantern lit in it now so obviously there's something important enough going on for the men to completely go against Charlie's orders and go straight to him with their news. “Is this about the gunshot near the river?”

Delgado nods and pulls the tent flap back, “We think they were on their way here to kill her and takeover as leader. Normally we just let the big guys fight it out and wait to see who the victor will be. But, we like Charlie. What she's doing in the other nations right now can't be messed with. Her plan of action needs to stay on course. We don't want these guys to ruin that.” Delgado gestures to the men before stopping short and surveying the problem quickly arising.

Two men are tied to a stake placed in the middle of the tent to hold people down while Charlie or Mark interrogated them. They have burlap sacks over their heads; one of them is passed out and leaning on the other. The last one is a guard passed out on the ground in front of the two prisoners and bleeding out from a head wound. There is something wrong with this picture and when Aaron turns to look back at the other men they are pulling out their swords and a guns running out of the tent. 

“What the hell?” Aaron says aloud. Did someone just escape?

“Pittman?” One of the captives speaks up. The voice is familiar but not familiar enough to recognize the owner immediately. Aaron wastes no time pulling the sack off the man's head to reveal the Mini Monroe.

“Conner?” the feeling of anxiety suddenly increases and he's left to wonder who the other person passed out next to the young man is. “What are you doing here?”

If one Monroe is here...

“Well I'm tied to a stake, for starters. We came to get Charlie. Then we were ambushed. Now I'm talking to you and you're just standing there not untying me from this stupid pole in the ground.”

Aaron immediately sets out to untie him, as he does so he looks at the man leaning over himself with his bag- covered face nearly touching the ground. Aaron knows exactly who is under that burlap sack now. The familiar leather jacket and leather cuff on the right wrist is a red flag. When he pulls the burlap sack off the man's head he finds Monroe passed out with a big bruise forming over the crown of his face. He isn't sure if he's relieved to see the former dictator or not. This is certain to put Charlie's mind in an absolute state of fury or sadness, he isn't sure which it'll settle on but the outcome definitely will not be good. 

Conner climbs to his feet and rubs the irritated red circles around his wrists. They both look at the guard passed out on the ground. As Aaron gets down on his knees to check if the guy is still alive Conner stars talking again.

“Miles should be running around here somewhere,” he says with exasperation. “Should we go find him before he starts causing trouble or just stay here until the trouble comes to us?”

“We need to go find Charlie. She is going to lose her mind if she finds out you guys are here right now.” Aaron says, the task of protecting Charlie's mental state has never been so urgently dire. He looks down to Monroe, still tied to the pole and snoozing away while everything unfolds around him. Aaron briefly wonders if he should try to wake him up and kicks at the man's thigh.

“Woah woah woah,” Conner holds his hand out stopping Aaron's movements. “I think it's best you just leave him for a while. If he wakes up then he's going to piss someone off and get knocked out again. His head probably can't take anymore more trauma than it's already handling.”

Aaron looks at Conner with concern, Monroe isn't someone that's easily taken down. “What do you mean?”

“He has been CRAZY,” Conner says with exaggeration. “The only thing he's been talking about since he got to Kansas, and on the way here, is Charlie. I've heard about him going insane with power when he was running the Republic but I have never had firsthand experience in seeing the man lose his shit. When he heard Charlie wasn't with us he went on a rampage and then set off to find her. He's gone completely mad and senseless.”

Conner’s words don't sit well with Aaron at all. When they walk out of the tent Aaron can see the first rays of pink sunlight pouring over wisps of blue clouds. He pulls Conner towards Charlie's tent hoping that he can figure out a way to ease her into the fact that the man she's been running from and trying to forget for months is suddenly here and passed out in a tent.

 

Charlie had no idea she fell asleep reading at the table until she hears the scrape and fall of Margot's chair on the ground and finds the woman standing up, eyes fixed on the entrance of the tent with her gun aimed on her uncle.

“Miles?” She bolts out of her seat and crushes him to her body with a vice like hug. The feeling of his warm body held against hers nearly makes her cry, she knew she would see him again but she didn't know how much she missed him until she saw his face. Just seeing him here and having physical contact with him makes her heart soar. She could almost feel herself going insane without his voice and his downplayed affection.“What are you doing here? You're suppose to be in Kansas.”

It makes some sense to see him here. Ever since he and Monroe brought Conner back with them from Mexico everyone has been all gung ho about family and being with each other and fighting for the ones you love. Of course he would track her down. But to actually see him here in person feels like such a huge relief of stress.

Margot looks between the two people hugging it out and decides to lower her gun. She turns the safety on and places it on the table until Charlie gives her a dismissive look. Through facial expressions they have a conversation in which Margot tells her that she does not trust the Matheson man and that the gun will be left on the table if Charlie feels the need to use it. The engineer gathers up a few pencils and a notebook before quietly making her exit out of the flap.

When Miles pulls Charlie back to get a look at her, God he's been worried about her, he can see little changes in her right off the bat. 

There are dark circles under her eyes that cast shadows making her look malnourished and pale. The bruises that cover her arms are faint and the necklace of handprints around her throat makes him wonder if she's been so tired that she hasn't been able to keep her guard up. The fact that she even has them marring her skin and that someone has put them on her makes his blood boil over with guilt and anger. She doesn't look like the Charlie that left him in California. She looks like a broken person; she looks like Bass. It doesn't hit him until he's standing in front of her and surveying the other half of the damage he's done that he finally realizes how much he fucked this up. 

She has become a mirror image of Bass. They are feeling the same pain, only for different reasons. And he is the catalyst of it all.

Should he tell her that the whole reason she up and left them was indirectly caused by him? That he made Bass choose between a life of being with her but never being able to have her over a life of loving her and losing her? He's never had any of Charlie's anger directed at him before as she's usually the one looking up at him with hero-worship written across her face like a child.

From the on edge vibe she's unknowingly sending out he decides it's best to ease her into it. Judging from the anxious flutters she gets every time she hears movement around her tent from the guards Miles questions whether he should tell her that Bass is here at all. 

“It's good to see you Charlie. You really had us all worried-”

“All of you?” She cuts him off with a scoff. He can hear the skepticism in her voice and he wonders if she's thinking of Bass. He's willing to bet every diamond he's ever touched on it.

“Yes. All of us,” he looks at her when he says this, hoping to drill into her just how serious he is. “Don't you ever fucking run off like that again. We’re going to have a discussion about this.” 

He is exhausted and as he speaks he can hear it leak out in his voice. He hopes this little army of hers isn't going to become a big thing he's going to have to get involved with because he knows if it is he'll have to decided between raising the Monroe Republic 2.0 up from the ashes or staying with her to try to drive this fantasy of a democratic nation out of her head.

“What? You mean like talk about our feelings? That doesn't sound like you at all, uncle Miles.” 

He laughs and nods his head. It doesn't, but this needs to happen.

“Yeah, we need to talk about someone and a mistake I made. It isn't going to be very easy for me to admit to, kiddo.” He rubs his palm along the lines of his forehead. This is the conversation he's been dreading to have with her. He's been thinking about what to say to her the entire way here but now it's all gone. When she gestures him to sit at a chair surrounding a little table he is caught off guard by the drawing of a cannon. It looks civil war era but in the margins of the drawing are notes about structure and artillery. He sighs and shakes his head. They are going to have to talk about that too. 

Miles waits to speak until she is seated and giving him her full attention.

“First things first, I want to say I'm sorry.” He holds his hand up to cut her off when she looks confused and ready to ask him what purpose he has for apologizing. “You're probably going to be angry with me for a long time and maybe even hold this against me but I want you to know that I was only looking out for you.”

The dark tone he sets makes Charlie worry. She keeps her mouth shut and lets him continue.

“Let me ask you something. Did you runaway because of Bass?” When he asks this he looks at her and takes in the obvious signals of distress at the mention of his old friend's name. Her browline folds into a frown and the heave of her chest as she drags in her next breath makes him think he asked her something that made her heart stumble. 

“Why should he matter? Bass doesn't want anything to do with me. I don't want anything to do with him.” Miles can practically feel the bitterness roll away from her in tidal waves. 

“I don't think that's true at all, Charlie. Maybe on your part but certainly not on his.” He continues after she shoots him a quizzical look. “He has gone AWOL without you. I've never seen him so angry with me. Not after I told him I was hiding his son from him. Not after I abandoned him in Philly. Not even after all the times I tried to kill him- and I've tried to kill him a lot.”

“This doesn't sound any different from his usual behavior. Why is he angry with you this time?” She tries not to let her curiosity show through her words and sits back in the chair, preying she comes off as aloof. She doesn't want to hear about Monroe or Bass or who ever he is to her now. Finally, after months and months of conditioning herself, he isn't the only thing she thinks of during the daytime. That she has bigger plans to spend all her time focusing on and men and women to train in order to prepare them for the battlefield is a godsend miracle. A way to crawl out from under this cloak of sadness she's been walking with around in.

“Something happened between you. I don't want to know what it was but it sparked something that was strong enough to drive him out of his mind. He's been going on and on about how you were always meant to be together- really, it sounds like a bunch of Jack and Rose bullshit to me. But ever since you dragged him back from Texas he's been different: he's learning how to be a person he can live with. I think at some time he realized he can't live without you.”

Charlie feels a lump in her chest at her uncle's words. This is a heavy conversation and Charlie can feel every word weighing on her uncomfortably. She doesn't want to hear this. Not when she's at the point where she can wake up in the middle of the night and not cry as his soft touches twists into nothing but leftover memories and smoke. She doesn't realize she's making a move to get up from the seat to put some space between them until he grabs her arm and hauls her back down to the wooden folding chair.

“I'm not done yet,” He says.

“Yes, you are. I don't want to hear anymore of it.” She says just as the lump in her chest goes to her neck and she's sure that whatever emotion she's choking on will pass. It doesn't and she can feel the sting in her eyes as the tears begin to gather. She pushes into her eye sockets with the palms of her hand, forcing pain and hoping for a stop to the oncoming wave of feeling used and thrown away. Charlie couldn't count how many times she had to convince herself she wasn't one of those easy girls who lets a guy fuck her and move on. But that exactly how he made her feel. Used and left with little self-esteem.

Miles can see her shaking and decides now is the time to spit it out before she forces the conversation to an end.

“I made him do it. I'm sorry, but I'm the one who told him to stay away from you.” He's looking in her eyes for something but she just looks at him as if she didn't hear a word he just said. It takes him a moment for him to place that she's in shock. “I told him that if he tried to get any closer to you I would send you away just like I did to his son. Make it so that he could never find you. You would be safe from him. He's like a spreading fire, Charlie. Everything he touches becomes engulfed in flames.”

The look she gives him breaks his heart. 

Her chest is heaving up and down like she's trying to breathe past the beginning of a panic attack. Charlie's hand grabs at her mouth to keep a sob from erupting and the way she tries to hold it all in makes his chest burn with guilt. He's seen Charlie sad before. After the death of Maggie, Danny, and Nora. She would follow him aimlessly, unsure of the destination, unsure of anything going on in her surroundings. Just walking and crying and looking at him with questions like “Is this all there is?” or “Is everyone just going to keep leaving me?” to the point where he had her drink enough to keep the emptiness at bay with a night of numbness.

But this look is so much worse than that. So much worse that it chokes him up and makes it hard to take in a breath. She looks like she's been betrayed by the only person who has ever stood up for her. Like her beloved story book hero has revealed himself to be the conniving villain. It gets to the point where she can't even make eye contact anymore. She makes a move to get away from him and he doesn't reach out for her. When she turns her back on him he feels like he's just lost something that he can't make up for. It leaves him feeling cold and hollow and jonesing for a bottle to make him forget how she looked at him.

The flap is whipped open suddenly and Aaron is walking in with Monroe's son behind him. The man stops to look around the room and immediate takes in the tension.

“Oh, shit.” Aaron says aloud. When Aaron makes out Charlie's crinkled face in the candlelight he just knows Miles has told her of Monroe's presence in the camp.

“You don't have to see him if you don't want to,” He assures her.

“Huh?” She looks confused as she comes out of her mind to concentrate on him. “What are you talking about?”

Before Aaron can respond there is a familiar battle-sounding roar cutting through the silence of the morning.

 

“CHARLOTTE!”

 

Charlie's eyes are glued to the exit of the tent as she hears a flurry of activity and even more yells issuing commands. 

The voice that's been haunting her for months sounds only feet away from her tent and she suddenly has the need to up and run away again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is waiting for THE REUNION and I'm over here like "let's draw this bitch out for another chapter".
> 
> Will be working to post the next chapter of Hardest Lesson soon


	10. I can bring the pain to you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Un-beta'd because I don't have a person.  
> Sorry it's short but I need it to segue the next chapter.

There are early mornings that Charlie wakes up to the sound of Monroe's voice. In the first moments when her brain is trying to wake itself up she hears the rough texture of his words as if he were just a few inches away from her. The things he says varies from morning to morning. 

Sometimes her mind plays repetitive versions of his rejection. He tells her to stop acting like a child, to leave her alone, or that he doesn't want anything she has to offer. That he only wanted her for a night, nothing else. These mornings usually leave her withdrawing from people or duties as she copes with the ache of being cast aside.

Other times she hears him assure that he'll be coming back for her. He tells her that he will do everything in his power to keep her safe. Most of the time she just hears him telling her all the things he whispered into her neck the night she was underneath him in the hotel, muttering into her neck saying he was so happy she was with him or that he couldn't stop thinking about her and that he's imagined this over one hundred times in his head with his hand. He said he knew he'd always been in love with her. Morning after this are the absolute worst. She feels rich with sadness. Not just used, but having her feelings turned against her and taking them for granted.

Now that she knows the dirty secret behind his refusal of her these feelings haven't changed. There is still anger bubbling in her stomach when she recalls the countless number of women she's seen make eyes at him then follow him around. There is still a heavy guilt weighing her down when she looks back over that past months and realizes that she gave herself to him freely with the thought that he chose her because she was something special to him. And then there is the ache in her chest. It never goes away, she just sometimes forgets it's there. She had no idea that what they did in that stupid motel would cause such a wave of emotion. She's had her share of flings in towns, but none of them were with anyone actually worth anything. None of those men were people she would run around risking her life for. None of them ever had the power to make her feel so hurt.

So now, when she hears his voice it leaves her stunned.

This time it is not from her personal collection of nightmares or daydreams. The sound is very clear and angry and achingly familiar. There is no way this isn't real. Charlie is struck frozen in place as her mind races to figure out what to do. The first thing she wants to do is run out of the tent and seek him out. He wouldn't be here if it weren't important but she can't decide if she wants to see his face or not.  
Her third thought is to get away. Her uncle is essentially right. All things Monroe comes in contact with go up in flames. She was doing so well with her plans for the other nations. She would have counterparts in the Plains Nation and the Georgia federation as soon as she got word back from her runners.

If he's here then it is surely an omen of bad things to come. Charlie thinks she's been very good at picking up and running away. She's never moved an entire army before but she briefly considers the idea and already has plans of relocating the clan outside of St. Louis as they are becoming less and less of a clan and more of an army. They'll be needing more room soon. What better time could there be to hightail it further north?

Finally, rationality sets in. The sounds of men as they issue morning commands and the buzz of voices just on the other side of the tent tell her that everyone in the clan knows exactly who is here. She isn't going to back down in front of them. She isn't going to retreat. Charlie finds herself surprised that he hasn't stormed into the tent like everyone else has this morning. Mark and Delgado must have him tied up somewhere. Probably, the interrogation tent. Tied up and nowhere to run. Just completely vulnerable to her and anything she wants from him. 

Before she even realizes she's moving forward to exit her quarters Aaron stops her.

“Charlie you don't have to,” he says carefully. When she turns back to look at him she can read the concern on his face. It is a look he's been giving her for weeks now. She knows he's worried about her. She is worried about herself too. Her mother is practically the poster child for mental illness, so she assumed it would hit her at some point. There are things that she caught Rachel doing that drove her up the wall. Like nervous ticks and conversations with herself. The complete lack of trust she put in others. Or how she would find her mother writing down in journals and diligently working into the morning and then go a complete day with lack of sleep and moods that would switch like the drop of a hat. 

Charlie knows Aaron noticed all those things too because she finds that he has been the only person who is constantly working to pull her out of her head. He wants her to tell him what she's thinking; not just the next plan for her war campaign, just what she thinks about that day. Charlie doesn't miss the way he looks at her when she does something she knows he disapproves of. There is guilt but it is pushed aside by the idea that there are awful things that must be done and she has learned in order to do them she compromises a bit of her integrity every time. Seeing Monroe might put her head back into a dark place but she doesn't think she could stay away from him if she wanted to. So she should at least do it while he's tied up.

She fixes him with a look of thankfulness and understanding.

“I'll be okay. If something goes wrong I'll come right back and talk to you.” Charlie squeezes his arm and makes her way out of the tent. The security detail outside her tent immediately starts to follow her without command. She nods to one and mutters a good morning. It is a good morning, a beautiful looking September one. There are men and women going about their chores and morning duties. There is a line at one tent where breakfast is being served and she tries not to roll her eyes when a few men who had their asses handed to them look away from her convoy as she passes the line.

When she ducks under the flap of the interrogation tent the room is is orange colored as the morning suns' rays make everything in the white water-proofed material of the tent luminous. 

He glows and it pulls her closer to him. He is like a beacon of blinding light guiding her to him. But she is smart this time and keeps her distance. She knows if she gets too close to him he'll likely set her on fire before she even realizes she's burning up.

“Oh my God,” He groans and swings his head around, trying to knock the sack off. “I'm not going to kill Charlie or your leader or whatever the hell you're calling her.”

She stops three feet in front of him and looks over his shoulder to find the excessive amount of rope her men used to tie his hands behind his back and anchor them to the stake. Monroe can tell that someone is close enough to take down and sweeps his leg out from from it's folded position in order to knock her down. Charlie is sharp enough to know he would try to his guard down so she easily dodges the leg. It pisses him off.

“Okay asshole,” he gives in. “I can actually see your figure through the fucking sack and I can hear you walking around and breathing. If you wanna talk, I'm all ears.”

When she reaches forward to rip the sack off his head, uncaring if the burlap texture would scrape his face, he is in too much shock to initially speak. He looks unchanged and different all at once. The bruise on the crown of his head is raised and turning purple. His clothes are dust-covered and his face is red with sunburn. The beard and mustache has grown out more than she's use to seeing and the sparkly blue eyes that could make a woman go to her knees have turned pale and ghostly. Monroe's body goes completely still as he takes her in.

“Charlotte?” He is struck breathless at the sight of her standing in front of him.

“G'morning, Sunshine,” She says with complete insincerity. 

He looks her up and down from the scuffed boots she slipped on last night and the fitted denim jeans with a patch on the knee. The low belt with her sword hanging low on her hips to the cutoff t-shirt she pulled on earlier. Her hair is even wavier than usual and her pallor is a sickening pale color he's never seen on her before. It looks like she doesn't even go out into the sunlight anymore. 

“Is this real?” Monroe's voice is quiet and breathless. His head whips to the side and his vision goes white for a second. He can tell she back-handed him but he'll let it slide. He knows just how much he hurt her. It was enough to make her run away from him, after all.

“I don't know. Did that feel real?” Charlie's voice is scratchy and deep. It is familiar and wonderful. He turns his head and meets her gaze straight on. She watches in delight as he works the muscles in his jaw and then spits out saliva and blood at her feet.

“I am so sorry, Charlotte. I never should-” Monroe leans forward and pulls at his bonds. Blood trails down his chin and drops to stain his shirt.

“Save it.” She puts her hand up and then lowers herself to her haunches to be on eye level with him. “Miles told me everything. However, I feel like I should take some responsibility too. You're President Monroe: a bona fide sociopath and asshole extraordinaire. I don't know what I thought I was holding out for but it definitely isn't someone as cruel and manipulative as you.”

He is quiet, waiting for her to continue but instead she looks away and he catches her wiping at her eyes before she turns around to the exit of the tent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't given up. I have however been working more (12 hr shifts can suck an egg). When I'm bored I watch Charloe MVs and sometimes I just really hate the music so I scour youtube for the perfect songs and sync them until the video suits me. Yes, yes I am that crazy. Why has no one made a Beast of Burden MV yet? It's their song!
> 
> Don't worry! She's got to untie him... eventually.


End file.
